


The Umbrella Academy in: The Triwizard Tournament

by cherriesareneat, livtontea, tehmoonofficial



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: About 3k words per chapter, Alternate Universe, Ben Hargreeves' Tentacles | Bentacles, Bodyswap, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Child Abuse, Dimension Travel, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, It makes more sense in context, Post-Season/Series 01, Slow To Update, The tag Klaus adds to every fic, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-01-24 15:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21340549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherriesareneat/pseuds/cherriesareneat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/livtontea/pseuds/livtontea, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tehmoonofficial/pseuds/tehmoonofficial
Summary: At the end of season one, Five accidentally takes his siblings to August 1994 in the Harry Potter universe.But their age is off too. In this universe they were born October 1, 1975. They will be 17 just in time to compete in the Triwizard Tournament.Who will be the champion? Will the Hargreeves siblings interfere with Harry's plot? And what does the Commission have to do with any of this? And why aren't they trying to come home?Co-written by @livtontea and by @tehmoonofficial check out their amazing work!
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, The Hargreeves Family
Comments: 125
Kudos: 249





	1. Prologue

“Hold on! It’s gonna get messy!” shouted Five. He needed to concentrate on the math for this jump. One teensy miscalculation and it was over. Five steeled his resolve and did his calculations as quickly as he could while multiplying all the variables by seven to make up for the extra consciousnesses. He couldn’t remember if a specific variable was for the universe, or the universal truth of time travel overriding previous memories in a consciousness. He decided better safe than sorry, and multiplied that by seven too. He didn’t want to accidentally leave behind memories for a few of his siblings or himself! 

The fire was getting closer and closer, but in a tension filled turn, Five ex machina, they managed to escape in a swirling pit of blue and white lights. The universe folded around them like the way a baker folds in chocolate chips. Right about then everyone felt like the eggs being beaten into the butter and sugar. The universe was the hand mixer and they were being pulled apart and combined to make something else.

Then they separated. They weren’t the binding agent anymore. Now they were like everyone else. They were separate entities surrounded by the fabric of the universe, or dough, in this analogy. Five immediately decided that all sweets were the root of evil and threw up where they landed. 

_ Where are we anyway? _ Five wondered. _ When are we? _ Was also a very pressing question, but that was not the case for everyone else. 

“Five! Are you ok- is that blood‽” Diego moved to help Five get up from the crushed puddle of time traveler that he had become. Oh, fun, he was throwing up stomach acid. And blood, too.

Five pushed Diego away and forced himself to his feet. This was a mistake. The cool grass was looking more enticing every second he stood upon it. “We need the exact date. We need- shit.” Five’s head was spinning. It felt worse than the hangover he got sometime around his 37th birthday and the hangover he got after the library during apocalypse week, _ combined _. 

Someone saying, “Guys, we’re like seventeen or eighteen again,” interrupted the stomping elephants. Five was pretty sure it was Klaus. It was Diego. He interrupted again:

“You’re not thirteen anymore, Five” 

“Great,” Five said through clenched teeth. 

“Ben,” Allison gasped. 

Five guessed that part of his massive headache must have been the strain of somehow bringing Ben back to the land of the living. Too bad he missed the reunion. He saw Ben and then he saw the still-passed-out Vanya, and decided to follow her lead. He went down, and mercifully, it was away from the puddle of vomit. 

**&**

When Five woke up again, he was in his bed with Vanya sitting up on the far edge. It was still dark outside. Ben was reading a book to her in his desk chair. She had also overloaded on her powers. They probably wanted to keep watch over both of them together and decided that Ben was the least likely to piss Vanya off or something.

“Good morning, Five,” Ben said while marking his page. 

“Ben, you and Vanya-? What happened?” Five managed to rasp out. Vanya handed him a glass of water and he gulped it greedily. 

“Once you passed out, we figured out we were in the park about four blocks from home, and then Vanya woke up and started screaming, it was-”

“About what?” Five was growing more concerned as he kept talking. In the 13 years and about a week he knew Vanya, he couldn’t remember her raising her voice once. The only other time he had ever seen her vaguely angry, she blew up the moon. This must have been huge.

“Before I destroyed the house, Luther locked me in a cage Dad built to contain me when my powers got out of hand.” Vanya looked angry just talking about it.

“Why the hell would he do that? Jesus, that’s- that’s…” Five was in complete disbelief at Luther’s stupidity. 

“I know. I thought Vanya was going to kill him. He did that because Vanya used her powers to cut Allison’s throat and vocal chords. He was probably scared for the safety of others. That doesn't necessarily justify it, but...” Ben trailed off. 

Five blinked. What do you say to that anyway? If a mind reader were to look into Five’s head they would see: “My sister seriously injured my other sister, and my brother locked up the sister that did the injuring about it. _ What _?” 

“So, we found a newspaper in the park,” Vanya said while she handed it to him.

“August twenty-ninth, Nineteen ninety-four. That’s… weird.” Five was referring to their appearances. They should be about five years old, but they looked like they were in their late teens. 

“On page six, there’s a small article that mentions the miracle birth of 43 children that were all promptly adopted after October 1, Nineteen seventy-five. We’re sixteen,” Vanya said. “You were only out for a few hours so in about ten minutes it will be the thirtieth” 

Five flipped to page six. 

**Tension In the Scientific Community**

By Gerald Driver

There has been tension between scientists ever since the spontaneous births of 43 children on October 1, 1975. Some scientists are arguing that they should have gotten a chance to study the mothers and children before Sir Reginald Hargreeves adopted them. 

One scientist, Dr. Michael Harding argues, “We should have been able to see what happened. If this happens to other women this could be very bad. We were lucky that these women were all able to give birth and all parties survived. How can we prevent this in the future?”

It has been almost 17 years since the miracle birth. If it were going to happen again, it would have. 

Another scientist, Dr. Olivia Spencers, has stated, “I don’t see the need to experiment on children.”

She seems to have the right idea. Children are precious regardless of how they were born or who their fathers, or lack thereof, are. No child should have to grow up experimented on. 

We attempted to reach Sir Reginald Hargreeves, but he was unavailable for comment.   
  
---  
  
Gerald Driver must be very young or very new. It was one of the worst articles Five had ever read, but it was informative for their purposes. 

Five looked up from the article to see Vanya and Ben who were waiting for him to finish reading it. Five always thought Vanya and Ben were the two most tolerable out of the whole house. God, he missed them. He must have had a strange look on his face because Ben put his book down on the bedside table and tentatively took his hand in a gentle way that didn’t feel as overwhelming as other touches have felt since the apocalypse. Vanya gave him a small smile, but she did not move to touch him. 

“We should sleep. Tomorrow we can see what changed and talk to the others. For tonight, we should just get to bed.” Ben slowly moved to get up. Five was beginning to feel tired again anyway. He said goodnight to Ben and Vanya and then walked over to his light-switch to shut it off. Then he heard Allison speak through the door. 

“Vanya, I wanted to talk to you.” Her voice was soft and delicate in a way Five had never heard in his life, but he recognized as nearly maternal. 

“Allison- Allison I am so, so sorry.” It hurt to hear Vanya pleading like that. Her voice sounded a bit strained. She was probably about to cry from guilt. Five felt uncomfortable, but he continued to listen even after he turned his light off. 

“No, Vanya, I was wrong, I shouldn’t have tried to-” 

“Allison I was irrational, you were probably going to calm me down, right? I am so sorry-”

“Want to call it even? I tried to rumor you, you temporarily took my powers. We both did shitty things to each other.” Allison sounded strange. Her voice was a bit hoarse and her tone was a bit off from the sister he remembered. She must be near tears too, Five thought. 

“I’ll take it. We both need to work on the whole sisters thing, huh,” Vanya was still strained, but she could pass for normal if Five wasn’t paying as much attention. 

Five felt like he had walked in on a very private moment. He heard two pairs of feet walking down the hall, and then decided to close his door, and finally go to sleep. “After the hell week I’ve had, I deserve it,” was Five’s last thought before his head hit the pillow and he drifted off to sleep without extreme exhaustion or alcohol. It was the best sleep he had gotten in nearly 46 years.


	2. 00.02 The Other 724

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes wake up in a familiar place. Sort of.

When Luther woke up to the alarm that morning, he jumped up in his bed to get to the mirror and prove to himself that the last 24 hours of his life weren’t just some fantastic dream. He rushed out of bed and under his model planes and looked at his face. 

Luther stared at the 16 year old in the mirror. He remembered looking like that as a teenager, but he never thought he would see that face mimic his own ever again. He looked down at his arms which were only coated in a light layer of blond hair. All of a sudden he felt a sudden _ wrongness _ being lifted off his shoulders. Like an itch he could never reach finally being scratched. 

**&**

When Klaus woke up to the blaring alarm, his first thought was that the last 10 months were some sort of fever dream. He hallucinated Vietnam, and Dave, and Ben, and Five, and Vanya _ ending the fucking world _in some fever dream. He was half-convinced he had died in that ambulance. This must be one wild way to tell him he was dead that didn’t involve Little Girl God. 

_ Oh, dear God _ _ . _ _ I’m in hell, aren't I? _

He opened his eyes to see his childhood bedroom. Manic drawings on the wall and bland patterns in the ceiling dominated the room. He was extremely familiar with these sights from nights staring at them and wishing that the ghosts would go away or at the very least _ shut the fuck up _. 

His brain had been used as a chew toy by a three-headed beast and his stomach was turning and twisting. _ Is this what The Horror feels like to Ben? _ Was his first coherent thought. Klaus cringed. His mouth felt like the inside of a dirty toilet bowl he had seen in a dingy motel once. Overall, Klaus felt like complete death. 

On second thought, death felt better.

His body must have been drunk the day before. That would explain why he got to sleep so easily last night. He had to get sober again. The thought nearly made him groan aloud. He had to get dressed and find someone to tie him up. _ Maybe Diego would do it, _ Klaus thought while absentmindedly putting on the uniform with muscle memory he thought was long gone; tying the tie and pulling up the knee socks. 

**&**

Diego opened his eyes the second the alarm started. The last 24 hours of his life had been absolutely insane, and now he had to wake up and be a member of the Umbrella Academy again. He shuddered just thinking about that living nightmare. At least Five would be around, and Ben wasn’t likely to die a _ second _ time. Right? 

Diego sighed and walked over to his wardrobe to pull out one of his uniforms. He remembered taking all of the offending pieces of cloth that proclaimed Ut Malum Pluvia with him and burning them in an abandoned field once he had moved out of the mansion and into the boiler room. Then his life happened. About a month after being kicked out of the Police Academy, he went out in the domino mask and thrift store clothing to fight crime without Luther’s nagging or Dad’s expectations. It filled a Eudora-shaped hole in his life that he didn’t want to think about. 

Before he left his room, he grabbed three knives, a backpack full of school stuff, and a dark, wooden stick. He felt like he couldn’t leave his stick behind the same way he couldn’t leave the knives. His knives were protection against the world and were extremely important tools. It felt strange to place some stick in the same category. He decided to dwell on that issue later. He took his toothbrush out and went to open the door. First, he needed to see the others. Priority one was to find a way to have a meeting somewhere to talk about all the shit that went down.

Once he opened the door, he noticed that the hallway looked different. He saw Allison coming out of her room and he locked eyes with her. Something was… _ off _ . The hallway had more rooms. And they were all labeled on the doors- something none of them noticed last night. His door had a black plaque on it with off-white lettering that indicated _ 00.02 _ . Allison’s announced _ 00.03 _. Then, there were more. Luther and Klaus had the same rooms, but Vanya must have had a room upstairs like she did in their later teens. The door directly across the hall from him said 00.09. 

_ There were nine of them now? _ Diego and Allison silently made their way downstairs in sheer disbelief. _ Maybe Dad collected more superpowered children in this timeline? _

“Did you notice a weird stick in your room?” Allison asked. 

“Define ‘weird’,” he grunted. Diego was never a morning person. 

“Like this,” she pulled out a stick with ornate designs on the handle and a rounded edge. It was beautiful, and it was strange. 

Diego pulled out his stick too. His was less-there was no other word for it, pretty, but it was still _ more _than some twig from the ground. Then, he saw Mom. 

“Three, Two, now is not the time to be dueling. You better get a move on or you’ll be late for breakfast!” She looked completely normal, but she was calling them by the numbers. This was weird because by the time they were 13, six out of the seven of them were given real names and she called them as such. 

Diego wanted to speak up, but Allison dragged him off. They went downstairs after brushing their teeth in the hallway bathroom, where at least two other uniformed people he had never seen before were also taking care of their teeth. They walked into the kitchen, which was bigger than he thought it could ever be. There were about 100 tables and at each, seven people could sit. He looked around until he saw a table with Vanya, Five, and Luther sitting at it in numerical order with places in between for the latecomers. He took the seat next to Luther, and Allison took the seat next to him. 

There were other people sitting at the other tables too, quietly talking. Diego looked at Five. 

“What the hell did you do?” He whispered to him, trying desperately to keep his noise level below the strangers. 

“I may have miscalculated age and universe this time. I honestly have no fucking clue what happened. We have to keep a low profile,” Five hissed back at him from a few seats over. They must have looked ridiculous.

Ben and Klaus entered the kitchen with twin looks of shock on their faces. Five shot them a glare. Ben and Klaus were nearly late. They walked over and sat in their seats on the sides of Five as quickly as they possibly could without drawing suspicion. 

“What’s with all the extras?” Klaus asked Five. 

“I screwed up. Keep your voice down,” Five muttered back. The old man looked deep in thought. Diego thought Five could have been thinking about time travel or about the lack of coffee in the house. Both of these were pressing issues to Five. _ If he didn’t have that mannequin, he would probably marry a textbook or a coffee machine. _Diego barely held himself back from snorting at the mental image of Five lovingly looking at a thick Theoretical Physics book that was adorned with a veil as Pogo married them in the courtyard. 

The kitchen was beginning to fill up with more and more people. Diego looked around the room. He didn’t count the total of 105 identical, circular tables with identical wooden chairs surrounding them. The backs of the chairs had number plates on them that were just a bit smaller than the plaques on their doors. There were about seven chairs per table, except the last table. There were four high chairs at that table with four nannies that Diego had never seen before trying to seat them. There were other nannies around other tables with babies and toddlers. The tables containing older children and teenagers were left alone. And, of course, everyone there- except the nannies- were wearing Umbrella Academy uniforms.

When the last person was seated, a fussy toddler called Number Seven Hundred and One, the tables let out a rattle and a groan from the added weight of beautifully polished silverware, the umbrella china that he remembered from childhood, and pitchers of water and fresh fruit juice. There was a small pop as the plates filled with fluffy, scrambled eggs and lightly browned toast. Klaus nearly jumped out of his seat. Allison was pretending it was normal and was nearly successful at it. Five frowned at the offending dish in front of him. Diego didn’t bother to ask what was wrong with his eggs. Five was always a picky eater.

While he was eating, he noticed Mom fluttering around the tables. She was handing out pieces of paper. _ Maybe they were given daily schedules instead of yearly ones? _When she got to their table, she gave him a paper that must have been wrong. His itinerary read:

**Schedule 08/30/1994- 00.02**

8:00 am- Potions and Chemistry/classroom 4.06

9:00 am- Transfiguration and Physics/classroom 4.12

10:00 am- Arithmancy and Calculus/classroom 4.00

11:00 am- English/classroom 1.14

12:00 pm- Lunch/kitchen

12:30 pm- Herbology/greenhouse 2

1:30 pm- Private training/room b2

2:30 pm- Music/classroom 1.01

3:30 pm- Study hall/library

5:00 pm- Group training with 00.01, 00.03, 00.04, 00.05, 00.06, and 00.07/room b7

6:30 pm- Dinner/Dining hall

8:00 pm- free time until 9:00 pm; lights out

Diego looked at Klaus’ schedule. Allison’s schedule was also exactly the same. It was exactly identical except instead of private training they had individual training. In their childhoods that was supposed to be time to train their powers individually. He also noticed that they had a lot more free time than Dad used to give them. With more people, he must have less time to watch their every waking hour. 

He wondered what “potions”, “transfiguration”, “arithmancy”, and “herbology” could be. Ben and Luther raised their eyebrows at their own schedules. 

“Guys, I think I know what universe we’re in!” Ben said in a hushed tone. 

The whole table swung around to look at him. 

“The sticks are wands! This is the Harry Potter universe. I loved those books as a kid. It’s been a while since I’ve read them, but-,”

Ben was cut off by Mom. “It is seven fifty-three A.M. You have seven minutes to get to your first classes, children! Have a great day of learning!” 

Diego looked up at his siblings. They all looked slightly green. Now, they had to navigate the much larger version of their house and try to find classroom 4.06 for Potions and Chemistry. 

They rose from their table and the other kids followed suit. 

“Any ideas for room four point ‘o six?” Klaus asked Diego.

“How would I know?”

“Hey, Klaus, walk with me to Potions?” It was one of the strangers. Klaus nodded and the stranger began to talk at him. 

“Did you get the lab last week? I hope we’re not doing a lab report on it. We’ll probably do a lab report on it. I still don’t understand the properties of lacewing in _ Polyjuice Potion _-,”

The strange girl continued to ramble while everyone trailed behind her like lost puppies, hoping she would lead them to the classroom on time. They ended up in the training and classrooms half of the house, which made sense, and were lead into a long corridor called Sciences and Maths 4.00-4.22. 

The stranger lead them into room 4.06, which was a room that looked half modern and half medieval. There was state of the art, by 1994 standards anyway, lab equipment neatly behind glass doors and clearly labeled. Then there were the cauldrons. These were also clearly labeled. 

“Sit down, sit down! Number Ten, shut your mouth! Open your textbooks to page thirty-five and do the warm up questions on the board while I take attendance,” said the teacher. 

They sat in the classroom in numerical order; so no cheating off Five’s paper for anyone but Klaus and Ben. Luckily for Diego, he remembered more from Chemistry II than he thought. The problems on the board were simple combustion equations, which Luther finished with ease. Diego had to use the explanation in the textbook to remember how to do it, but once he got that, he found himself flying through it. Luther, Five, Ben, Diego, Vanya and Klaus all finished in that order before Allison. Diego flipped the page to the explanation for her and then she got it done in about five minutes. 

The seven of them found themselves very bored when the teacher said, “Count off!” 

They looked at her, confused. 

“Number One, count off!” 

“Oh, sorry.One?”

Diego took a guess. “Two.”

Allison followed his lead. “Three.” 

By then, everyone got the gist. Attendance by numbers must have been convenient. The girl that led them to the class was, “Ten.”

And so on until Number Forty-Three called his number out. 

What proceeded was the teacher (Number Fifteen called her Mrs. Rodriguez) checking the warm up questions and the homework. It was conveniently already done and in his folder labeled “Chem/Potions”. She then gave them a lecture about combustion in potions ingredients. Looks like that was the new unit. Diego settled himself in for a challenging class. Even Five was vigorously taking notes. All that time travel math must have allowed some chemistry to slip from the old man’s brain. 

In Transfiguration/Physics, they were transfiguring twigs into knives. Diego got full marks and was the first of their group to successfully complete the spell, much to Five’s displeasure. Diego had always been better at Traditional Physics than Five. 

Luther was the best at Arithmancy/Calculus, which was just very advanced calculus with magic involved. Allison, Vanya, and Ben were so lost. 

Ben shone in English class. They were talking about literary devices and themes in one of his favorite short stories, _ The Lottery _by Shirley Jackson.

Lunch was scarfed down as quickly as possible without looking rude, but they still had no time to talk. 

Herbology ended up being removing Bubotuber puss. It was gross, but simple and oddly satisfying. Allison ended up with the most. Listening to Ten and Fifteen told Diego that this was a review from “second year”. 

He descended into the basement to see that it had not really changed. He found training room b2 easily. Diego’s private training consisted of just knife training with a private instructor, so Dad must be out of town. He was grateful that it was something he knew. The only spell he knew he could perform for sure was the twig to knife spell they learned earlier. 

  
  


Then it was time for music class. Diego had never taken a music class before. He hoped that the version of him that grew up here wasn’t very good. If the music teacher had low expectations then he couldn’t screw up his reputation. He walked with Klaus, who looked about as nervous as he felt. He and Klaus followed Five, Vanya, and Number Nine in to the music room. 

There were 86 people in the very large band room. There were all kinds of instruments around, but they were each told to grab drumsticks and pads. They were working on rhythm. As soon as he got the hang of it, it was really fun to play with everyone in unison. 

Then they had study hall. Study hall was silent time in the library to get their homework done. Still no chance to speak with the others. He sat there and worked through his homework. He needed to get at least halfway through a Transfiguration/Physics essay and had a worksheet from Chemistry/Potions. 

“Vanya is included in the hero work this time, pass it on,” Luther whispered in his ear during study hall. Diego turned and passed it on to Vanya who was sitting right next to him. Her eyes widened in a way that made Diego uncomfortable. She shouldn’t be this happy to be included, he thought. Vanya moved to pass it to Five, and he passed it to Ben, who passed it to Klaus, who passed it to Allison. 

And it was over as soon as he finished the worksheet and a quarter of his Transfiguration/Physics essay. 

Group training was next. Diego led the group into the cold basement. The basement training rooms were just like the ones in their previous life. He warned everyone that Dad had sent a random instructor for his private training today. 

“Why would we have group training if he isn’t here?” Luther asked. Luther no longer looked like an experiment gone wrong. 16 year old Luther had broad shoulders, but they were nowhere near as gargantuan as 29 year old Luther’s. Luther didn’t carry himself the way Diego remembered. He hunched over a bit now, like he did when he was too tall for door frames. 

Diego opened the door. They were met with the gym from their previous life. It was like stepping into a photograph. The gym was clearly built for seven people and seven people only. 

They weren’t met by some random person. They were met with Mom who had her usual smile plastered on her face. 

“I have a very special announcement! I’m sure you noticed that your father has been gone for about three days now. He has been talking to the Minister of Magic in Great Britain about a very important event, and he managed to secure all seven of you top box tickets to the Quidditch World Cup! Here is a tent, and in this wallet there should be 20 pounds and 100 galleons. Take this time to speak amongst yourselves. You kids are old enough to be left alone with no incidents, right?” She gave a lot of information at once. They nodded and she left the room.

“I used to love the Harry Potter books as a kid. I haven’t read them in a while,” Ben said. 

“I used to read them too, especially once the house was empty,” Luther said quietly. 

“I read the sixth book in the apocalypse, but that was the only bit of the Harry Potter series I could find,” Five replied. 

The general consensus was that everyone had read bits and pieces of the series or were Ben and Luther who had read the whole thing a few times. Diego himself had seen the second movie when he and Eudora babysat her cousin’s kid. 

“So I’m one-hundred percent sure that this is the fourth book. The Goblet of Fire. Voldemort- that’s the bad guy in case you don’t know- he comes back at the end of the year. Um…,” Luther went on to explain the plot of _ Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire _ with all the finesse of someone who hasn’t read it in four years. Ben probably didn't interject because he couldn’t remember the last time he had read it. Ben had been dead for over 10 years and Diego doubted Klaus was reading Harry Potter to pass the time.

“Do you think we should try some spells?” Vanya’s attempt to break the ice was welcomed. 

“I don’t see why not. Not knowing how to do the basics could be… _ bad _for keeping a low profile,” Five answered while talking out his simple, yet elegant, wand. 

Klaus was the first to break the ice. With an exaggerated English accent and large, broadcasted movements he tried to levitate a bag of jump ropes with, “_ Wingardium Leviosa! _”

Amazingly, this worked. Unfortunately for Klaus, it worked too well. The bag jumped up and nearly hit the ceiling before Klaus stopped pointing his wand at it, stopping the spell. 

“_ Expelliarmus, _” Diego tried while pointing his wand at Klaus. Klaus’ wand flew into Diego’s hand. 

“Hey!” Klaus exclaimed. 

“Sorry, Luther. _ Stupefy!” _Allison tried.

Luther was caught by Ben before he hit the floor. Five woke him up with a “_ Rennervate _.” 

“You should have left him like that,” Diego commented. 

Luther pointed his wand at Diego. “_ Tarantallegra! _”

Diego’s feet started moving on their own in a terrible tap dance. 

Vanya giggled through her “_ Finite Incantatem _,” which made the dancing stop. Diego decided to let Luther and Vanya slide for now, but he still glared at both.

Ben then tried, “_ Accio siblings wands! _” Diego felt his wand get ripped out of his hand and saw everyone’s wands being summoned into Ben’s waiting hand. 

“Nice,” Ben said with an uncharacteristic smirk on his face. Ben must have changed since the last time Diego had seen him. 

“We’re going to meet the main characters tomorrow at the game,” Ben said while holding the wands out for everyone to reclaim. Diego took his back and felt a tension he didn’t realize was there alleviate. 

“We know the plot. How much can we change? Should we change anything?” Allison asked. 

In Diego’s opinion, some skinny 14 year old shouldn’t have to deal with terrorists. He remembered being a skinny 14 year old dealing with terrorists, and decided that if he could help it, Harry wouldn’t have to step up to deal with Death Eaters or Voldemort.

“There’s no telling what will happen if we change something too early. If we change something small, it could be disastrous later on,” their resident history-editing expert warned. Five’s tone was sobering. 

They made their way to the dining hall in complete, pensive silence. Dinner was the same affair from their childhood, with the exception that there were more people, and that Dad wasn’t there to look at them like a dictator looks at the unwashed masses. 

After dinner, Diego went to his room to finish the transfiguration essay. Or at least, he tried. He was intercepted by Klaus who asked, “Can we talk?” Klaus’ tone was off.

“Sure, what’s wrong?”

“I need to get sober. Can you tie me to a chair?” 

“You want to get sober, so you want me to tie you up?” Diego’s eyebrows flew to his forehead.

“Yeah, exactly!” There was a slight pause after Klaus spoke.

“Alright, but if I see a boner, I’m out,” Diego finally responded.

They went to the attic, it still looked the same excluding some extra doors leading to spaces Diego didn’t remember, and Diego tied Klaus to an old, wooden chair. 

“Why the sudden need to get sober? Not that I’m against it. You shouldn’t be putting that shit in your body.” 

“Oh you know, the plot. I wouldn’t want to miss any of the… exciting times we’re about to have.”

Diego looked at Klaus. Really looked at him. Klaus was lying. 

“...I... I lost someone.” 

“What was her name?”

“_ His _ name was Dave.”

“He must have been special to put up with your weird shit.” 

Diego sat there with Klaus. He didn’t want to leave him alone in this funhouse version of their childhood home, which was bad enough without the additions. 

The mansion began to creak and settle as the night went on. Eventually each light turned off and the night-shift nannies settled in for a boring night of watching babies sleep soundly. The security system buzzed to life and the temperature dropped from the bustling school to the cold, gilded cage. Inside this cage, there are 731 kids. Adopting these children cost $1,654,032.07 USD. This second number is of no importance to the story. 

  
  



	3. 00.07 New Friends and A Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanya reconnects with her siblings and meets new people. The siblings discuss the plot of Harry Potter and if they would like to make significant changes.

After dinner, Vanya decided to finish her transfiguration essay and get to bed early. The day had been intense for her. It felt like she was standing in the middle of a tornado that picked up pieces of paper reading “Anger”, “Sadness”, “Happiness”, and “Awe”, amongst others. She felt these emotions strongly and then they were gone. It was the most overwhelmed Vanya had felt, ever. Needless to say, she was holding back a lot of tears that day. 

“Seven! Seven!” It was a little girl. She must have been about five years old. Her backpack had a little tag saying it belonged to Number Seven-Hundred. 

“Hey Seven-Hundred!” Vanya plastered on the fake smile she used around her student’s parents. It didn’t feel as forced as she remembered it used to be when she was talking to Little Becky’s mom, Karen, all about how her daughter was progressing on her scales but could use more practice. 

“Seven! I practiced my bow hold, see!” Seven Hundred held out a pencil the way that a beginner holds a bow. It was decent, but...

“Remember to angle your hand towards the violin,” Vanya corrected. 

Seven Hundred shifted her hand so her fingers were angled to her left. Now her bow hold looked good, especially for her age. 

“Very good!” Vanya praised.

“I gotta go, Seven! See you at breakfast!” Seven-Hundred gave her a large, toothy grin and ran towards the English hallway. 

Vanya brushed her teeth and then sat at her desk with the essay for a few minutes. _ At least we get to use pens _, Vanya thought. She remembered thinking that the feather quills were barbaric when she read the first book after Ben died. She didn’t remember how she justified it to herself, but she remembered wanting to feel closer to Ben. 

Vanya all of a sudden felt very upset about Ben’s death. _ I just saw him an hour ago, what the hell, brain! _Vanya was just not winning in the emotions department today. 

Think of the devil, there was a knock on her door. 

“Hey, Vanya, can I come in?” Ben’s voice sounded muffled behind the door. 

“Yeah come in, what’s up?” Vanya schooled her face and tried to make her voice sound as normal as possible. 

“Can you help me with this transfiguration essay? I just don’t get how the properties of the twig become metal without the entire thing exploding? Isn’t this just a more complicated version of the first year match to needle spell?” Ben was either ignorant of, or politely ignoring, her inner turmoil. 

“Oh yeah, sure. I found this book under my bed, it was really helpful with explaining the basics.” Vanya handed him a thin, leather-bound book called _ A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration _by Emeric Switch. 

There was another knock on the door. 

“Children, you should be headed to bed. You’ll have to wake up very early to catch your international portkey.” Mom said. She was standing in the doorway that Ben didn’t bother to close when he entered. 

“In a minute, Mom,” Ben replied. 

Mom’s face took on an interesting expression but she didn’t comment. Whatever was going through her head was unreachable to Vanya. She could barely figure out her own head, let alone a robot’s. 

“Okay, but not a moment longer… goodnight Six, goodnight Seven. …I love you.” She seemed hesitant.

“Goodnight Mom. Love you too,” Vanya replied.

“Love you too, Mom,” Ben spoke over her. Their sentences were a jumble of words.

Mom’s face was completely unreadable. She left the doorway and shut the door behind her. 

Unable to contain herself any longer, Vanya launched herself at Ben and wrapped him in the biggest hug she could remember giving in her entire life. Ben stumbled back but after a second, he reached his arms around her as well. They stayed like that for nearly 30 seconds. 

“I really missed you, Ben,” Vanya said while pulling away. 

Ben smiled at her, “I missed you, too. All of you. It was… strange only being able to talk to Klaus.”

“At least you had each other.”

“Yeah-,”

Whatever he was going to say next was interrupted by Five teleporting into her bedroom. 

“You guys should get some sleep. I can hear you across the hall- oof.”   
  


Ben enveloped him into a hug and somehow pulled her into it. _ This is a lot of hugs for one day—no—for one year. _ Vanya was confused but wasn’t really complaining. 

“We should go to sleep. Goodnight Five, goodnight Vanya.” Ben left the room with the transfiguration book and glossy eyes only to be frogmarched back in by Klaus and Diego. Ben looked particularly displeased to be manhandled, but he let it happen. _ Is my room now the meeting place for everyone? This is getting obnoxious, _Vanya thought while raising her eyebrows. She wondered how they managed to get all the way up to her room. 

Luther and Allison walked in right after Diego, Klaus, and Ben. “What is this, a party in Vanya’s room? What’s going on?” Five asked while shuffling around to make more room in the now crowded space. Vanya’s room wasn’t as small as the shoebox she had in her childhood, but it wasn’t as big as Five or Allison’s rooms. 

“Right. Um… we need to talk about how much of the whole story we remember. Of Harry Potter... Because I read the whole thing, and I know Ben did too, but we need to put together the plot. Mom said something about the Quidditch World Cup, which I know is a detail from the fourth book, but I don’t really remember the plot of that book so well, so…,” Luther was hunching forward in a way that looked unnatural in his 16 year old body. Vanya remembered 16 year old Luther as a confident and proud boy. His hunched shoulders and crossed arms were a huge deviation from the boy Vanya remembered scolding her for a too-low sock or crooked tie. 

“That makes sense.” Ben was looking directly at Klaus, “and establishing what we know will be helpful. We can also pool knowledge and decide how we’re going to approach any changes we may decide to make. If I remember correctly, this is the one where Voldemort comes back from the dead, right? That’s not good. Klaus, can you- oops.” He must have forgotten that he was alive for a second. 

“Ben, it might not be a good idea to make any changes. The Commission could notice that and decide to… terminate the cause of the changes to the timeline,” Five said. His eyes were shifting around and he was rubbing the skin of his inner right forearm. 

“What’s The Commission?” Vanya turned her head to look at Five. She must have missed so much. 

“They were the organization I was with. They sent the masked people, Hazel and Cha-Cha, to attack the house. They kill people when the timeline is out of order.”

Vanya blinked. She took in a breath and then said, “So I guess we should start at the beginning, Harry’s parents are killed by Voldemort, and then he’s sent to live with his Aunt. Her husband, her, and their son Dudley lock Harry in a cupboard for his childhood-” there was a collective wince “-and then that changes when Harry gets his Hogwarts letter. He meets Ron and Hermione, gets on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and then burns a teacher because Voldemort was possessing him and trying to get at the Sorcerers Stone. That’s basically book one.” She was sure she was leaving a few things out, but it had been so long, and the story didn’t really stick with her. 

“Oh. Um, I saw the second movie a while back with Eu-E- with a friend. He spends summer at Ron’s house. Ron’s dad is this almost bald dude that asks Harry about rubber ducks. Harry kills this massive snake with a sword,” Diego kept it short. 

“Yeah, that’s basically it. What a strange detail for you to remember. In book three, there’s this werewolf teacher that’s a good guy and Harry’s godfather, Sirius Black, that escapes Azkaban, the wizard prison, and tries to kill Ron’s pet rat. He’s actually a good guy. Ron’s rat, Peter Pettigrew, is the real bad guy. He sold out Harry’s parents to Voldemort. Harry makes a patronus to save him and his godfather from a bunch of Dementors. Those things are depression personified,” Allison picked up. 

“The fourth book, we went over. Harry is placed in the Triwizard Tournament against his will. He wins, and Voldemort comes back-”

“Yeah, we get it, Luther. Let’s move on to the next one.” Diego was always impatient, especially when Luther was talking. Diego began fiddling around with a knife. 

“The fifth book was all about Voldemort getting the prophecy from the Ministry of Magic, that’s the magical government. The Death Eaters, Voldemort’s minions, battle Harry, Ron, Hermione, and a few of their other friends. Then they battle against those kids and the Order of the Phoenix, which is the good guy army. Sirius gets killed and then Dumbledore, the headmaster, tells Harry about the prophecy.” Ben took a breath, “the prophecy basically says that Harry must kill Voldemort, or vice-versa.”

“I don’t think we need to go any further. That should be good for when we are. If we’re still here, we should go over it more. Good talk, I’m going to bed.” Five jumped out of the room. Vanya didn’t hear him reappear in his bedroom across the hall.

“Alright, um- ‘night.” Luther left and slowly the rest followed. She took her turn in the shower, brushed her teeth, changed into her pajamas, and then drifted off to sleep, quicker than she thought she would. 

“Goodnight, Five. Goodnight, Ben.” Vanya said to her empty room. Only this time, she wasn’t saying goodnight to a memory and a ghost. 

**&**

Good thing she fell asleep so soon, because way too early, she was greeted with the sound of Five teleporting into her room again. 

“Wha-” she said, eloquently.

“Wake up. We have an hour to pack and leave. Don’t forget your wand!” Five whispered at her before teleporting away. 

Vanya looked at the clock. It was only 11pm. She groaned and got out of bed to grab her toothbrush, despite her body’s strong protests. 

**&**

With almost 10 minutes to spare, a record for her siblings, they all managed to get to the kitchen on time. Mom placed a rusty spoon in the middle of their table. 

“In 9 minutes and 20 seconds, you all need to grab that spoon and not let go. This will lead you to the campsite. Now eat your breakfast, quickly.” The tables then magically filled with food. This was slowly becoming normal to Vanya. She picked up her spoon and dug into a very small breakfast consisting of oatmeal and, in her opinion, sadness. She glumly took a spoonful of it. So much for the eggs from yesterday. 

After the seven of them choked down the oatmeal that haunted them from childhood, mixed heavily with sips of orange juice or water, the portkey began to glow an ominous shade of blue. It was like Five’s powers, but darker. Five immediately looked distrustfully at it, but lacking other options, he grabbed the spoon, along with their tent and their wallet. Vanya followed suit, and so did everyone else.

It felt like a mistake. 

The world twisted and garbled around her. She closed her eyes to combat the vertigo. 

Then she was on the ground. The smell of grass filled her nostrils and she finally dared to look up. Clearly, her siblings fared about as well as she did. Even Five looked a little worse for wear. 

“Jesus, is that what your jumps feel like, Five? How can you do that all day?” Diego griped. He was pulling Klaus off the ground. 

“No. No. My jumps are not- That felt very… wrong.” Five looked as nauseous as Vanya felt. His jumps must be very different to magical transportation. 

There were two tired men wearing the most ridiculous clothes Vanya had ever seen anyone wear. One of them had a large feather quill and a roll of parchment in his hands and the other was carrying a gaudy pocket watch. The man with the quill and parchment wore a kilt and poncho, while the guy with a watch wore thigh-high rain boots with his tweed suit.   
  


“Six past Five from The City. Let me find your campsite… Hargreeves…” As the kilted man talked, there was another blast of light. 

Eight people scattered around and slammed into the ground. Vanya nearly snorted. The seven of them must have looked ridiculous. Three other people landed relatively gracefully. There were eleven people total. Their number does not matter, but what does matter is that this was the party, “Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill.” 

These were the Weasleys and the Diggorys. Vanya looked at Ben, who was closest to her. His eyes widened and he shuffled closer to Klaus. Vanya snuck a peek at Harry Potter himself who was slowly trying to disentangle himself from a gangly red headed boy that must be Ron Weasley. 

“Morning, Basil,” a man with thinning, red hair said to the man with a kilt. _ He has to be Arthur Weasley _, Vanya thought. Arthur Weasley handed Basil a used boot that he must have used as a portkey. She heard a shuffle and then Diego handed Basil the portkey they used. 

“Hello there, Arthur,” Basil sounded very tired. “Not on duty, eh? It’s all right for some… We’ve been here all night… You and this group better get out of the way, we’ve got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five fifteen. Hang on, I’ll find the campsites… Weasley and Hargreeves,” Basil nodded at their group, “You lot are about a quarter of a mile’s walk over there, first field you come to. Site manager’s called Mr. Roberts. Diggory… second field… ask for Mr. Pane.”

“Thanks, Basil,” said Mr. Weasley. He made a motion with his head for his children, Harry, and Hermione to follow him. Vanya shrugged her shoulders and began to follow him as well. Her siblings followed her. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around before. Hargreeves, did you say?” A man who could only be Amos Diggory asked Five.

“We’re American,” Five answered bluntly. Of all the people that Diggory could have picked to interact with from their group, he had to pick the most socially inept. Then again, they were all really bad at social interaction. 

“Right. Great scot! You must be the Umbrella Academy! Those seven super children. You have quite the following in the Daily Prophet, you know,” Diggory got very excited. Vanya liked him less the more he talked all about their various missions he remembered from the newspaper. _ Why are we featured in a British newspaper anyway? _Vanya wondered. 

Klaus and Ben looked very uncomfortable. Luther and Diego were masking their feelings with hard expressions that worked better when they were wearing domino masks. Five was giving a sarcastic smile and Allison looked like she was in her element. Vanya herself wished the ground would swallow her whole. She hadn’t realized how uncomfortable people yammering on about her own achievements could be. 

Vanya noticed that Harry had a look of relief on his face. _ He must be glad to not be the only famous kid wizard in the room _. 

Once they said goodbye to the Diggorys (Vanya could have sworn that Diego muttered “Good Riddance”), they followed the Weasleys to a cottage door. Five got their money out of their wallet. 

“One tent, booked about a week ago?” Five said politely. His face was blank, but his tone was normal. 

“Alright. Paying now?”

“Yeah. Here. Thanks.” Five paid by handing him the crisp notes in a way that their fingers would never touch. Mr. Roberts handed them a map of the campsite. They almost left until they heard Mr. Weasley struggling to do the same. 

Harry was trying to help Mr. Weasley with the money and was glancing nervously at them and at Mr. Roberts. Vanya threw him a sympathetic look. Harry smiled a tight grimace back at her. 

Then Mr. Roberts made the mistake of telling Mr. Weasley all about the strange things he had seen while surrounded by wizards. Vanya was deeply disturbed when a wizard popped out of thin air and said sharply, “_ Obliviate!” _

Mr. Roberts looked like he had been rumored. His eyes didn’t turn a silver-grey, but they did slide out of focus. Allison looked down at her feet. Vanya grabbed her hand.

They unanimously decided to let the Weasleys walk in front of them. 

“I… That…” Allison was deeply disturbed and uncomfortable. 

“Its alright Allison. You’re getting better,” Luther said gently. He held her other arm.

Five lead the way from the cottage to a small sign jammed into the ground saying “Hargreeves”. It was conveniently next to the sign reading “Weezly”. _ Was this intentionally misspelled in the book? _ Vanya wished desperately for a copy of _ Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire _, not only to check, but also to find out what was going to happen next. 

The Weasleys were sort of standing around while Harry and Hermione struggled to pitch two tents. 

“Allison, Klaus, could you guys go get the water? Ben, Diego, and I will have a look around while Five and Vanya pitch the tent?” Luther ended his statement with an upwards inflection to indicate a question. Five gave everyone ten galleons from the wallet. Allison and Klaus went off to look for a bucket while Ben, Diego, and Luther went to search the campsite for exits in the other direction. Five and Vanya stayed behind and between the two of them, they made quick work of their tent. 

Dad used to drop them off in the woods with a tent and a flashlight. All seven of them did this for survival training. Vanya always loved it because it was the one bit of training she was allowed to be a part of. 

Five went inside the tent and came out with some firewood and matches. He muttered “the tent is bigger on the inside,” at her. 

“Here, let me help with setting up the wood,” Vanya said in a normal speaking voice. The two of them set a perfect campfire and then Five lit the wood with a match on his first try. 

They were chatting and wondering when everyone else would be back when they were approached by Hermione. 

“Hello. Hargreeves, was it?” Five and Vanya nodded. “I was wondering if you could help my friend and I with our tents. It’s no trouble at all if-,”

“Sure. We’ll help with your tent. Who are you?” Five asked while pulling himself up off the ground.

“I’m Hermione Granger. Nice to meet you!” She smiled warmly at them while glancing down at their wrists on their rolled up sleeves. 

“I’m Vanya, this is my brother Five. Nice to meet you too.” Vanya gave her an encouraging smile. Hermione’s eyes widened a bit at Five’s name. 

“Who’s your friend?” Five asked. _ I guess we’re pretending to not know what Harry looks like or something. I hope we can tell the others soon, _ Vanya thought. 

“I’m Harry Potter,” Harry responded for her. Five gave him a firm handshake. 

“What’s the issue?” Five asked. He pretended Harry’s name was completely unremarkable. Harry’s eyes relaxed. 

“Er... we can’t get the poles and pegs in the right places. The tent just sort of flops over,” he said. 

“Oh, that’s an easy fix. You just have to have more people holding the fabric. Your tent must be bigger than ours. Here, let me grab this corner and Five…,” Vanya moved to grab a piece of the fabric. Harry grabbed an opposing part while Hermione and Five fixed the crooked pole in the tent. While they fixed the poles and pegs, they began to chit-chat. 

“Do you go camping often with your friends?” Hermione asked.

“We’re siblings. Adopted. We used to go camping a lot but not so much recently. I spent a lot of time… outside, as a kid,” Five said awkwardly. He was fiddling with the mallet they were using to hammer in the pegs and looking at anything but the people he was talking to. 

“Oh! My family used to go camping a lot too! We used to go to the Forest of Dean. After I got my Hogwarts letter we stopped going, but those were fun times,” Hermione was beginning to ramble a bit. 

“Dad used to drop us off in the woods for a couple days. It was a lot of fun!” Vanya added, not realising until she said it that that sounded really fucked up. 

“What’s Hogwarts?” Five joked. 

Harry looked horrified. _ He must think that Hermione just gave away the wizarding world to a pair of muggles _. Vanya almost giggled to herself.

“I’m joking. Who hasn’t heard of Hogwarts. ‘The second-stuffiest boarding school’.” 

“‘Second only to The Umbrella Academy in the United States.’ You’ve read _ Greatest Magical Schools and their Ranks in Various Subjects _, too!” 

This was news to Vanya. At some point Five must have found the time to do some research. _ Did he read instead of napping between dinner and eleven? _Vanya wondered. 

Five also lit their fire. 

“Hello! Thank you so much for helping with the tent and the fire.”

“It’s no problem.” Vanya looked up at him. 

“Five! Vanya! We found the water,” he held up a bucket, “Did Mom pack anything to cook or to cook with? I’m hungry,” Klaus whined. He and Allison were back with a bucket of water. 

Allison was holding onto the bucket for dear life. She was moving it around to compensate for the way Klaus was moving it, but water splashed around anyway. 

“We haven’t looked yet,” Five responded. 

Vanya gave a little wave to the Weasleys before following Five into the bigger-on-the-inside tent. The tent itself was set up like a hotel with a kitchenette. Instead of one or two beds, it had seven bunk beds and was filled with supplies like firewood and a few flashlights. When Vanya checked the fridge, she saw it was empty. She tried the cabinets. They were bare except for a few utensils, bowls, and cups. Mom did not pack any food. This went against every instance in their childhoods when Mom constantly offered them a plate of cookies or a small snack. Vanya looked at Five. 

“Last time I checked, Mom is constantly making us food. Why would she send us here empty handed?” Five asked. 

“I don’t know. We better tell the others. Do you think the Weasleys would be willing to share with seven extra people?”

“I hope so.” They exited the tent. “Mom didn’t pack food. All we have are some bowls and spoons,” Five announced. Since they went to search the tent, Ben, Diego, and Luther got back from exploring. Diego was carrying a pair of strange looking binoculars. 

“We found a cart selling these omnioculars for ten galleons. They’re supposed to have a zoom and enhance features. Slow down, playback, that sort of thing,” Diego said when Five looked at the strange device. 

Five nodded.

“Allison and I passed a snack cart. We could pick up the candy and popcorn?” Klaus suggested. 

“You lot don’t need to fill up on candy. We can share, it’s the least we can do after Vanya and- Five, was it? Helped to pitch our tents,” Mr. Weasley piped up. “Besides, my wife packed enough to feed thirty people. We have plenty. Can we use your water for the kettle?” 

“Sure! Thank you so much,” Allison handed him the bucket. _ I wonder where she got that from? _ Vanya could have sworn that they didn’t bring a bucket with them. They must have found it by the tap or something. 

Five stomped out their fire with a small pile of rocks he collected for that purpose and then followed them to the Weasley’s campfire to listen to Mr. Weasley talk about the Ministry of Magic workers walking past. At some point in the shuffle, Harry, Ron, and Hermione disappeared. 

Vanya ate her food and listened to the running commentary that was probably for the benefit of those without the last name Weasley. He introduced the Head of the Goblin Liaison Office, Cuthbert Mockridge, along with a man from the Committee on Experimental Charms, an Obliviator that Allison shrinked from, and- 

“Bode and Croaker… they’re Unspeakables…”

“They’re what?” Five looked sharply at Mr. Weasley. 

“From the Department of Mysteries, top secret, no idea what they get up to…” 

Mr. Weasley finished cooking the eggs (Diego had a strange expression on his face when he saw the eggs being cooked. _ Was he expecting them to be raw? _ Vanya hadn’t been keeping up with her brother, but she hoped he wasn’t eating raw eggs.), the only raw item Mrs. Weasley sent, when three older boys strolled out of the woods to greet them.

Vanya jumped up to give the three boys room to sit down. She wasn’t the only one with that idea. 

“Thanks for the food. I think we should go write to Mom. She must be worried. We left the house at eleven PM to make up for the time difference,” Luther explained. 

“Alright. Thank you for the tent and the water, see you later at the game. Where are you sitting?” Harry asked.

“Dad got us tickets in the top box,” Five said. 

“Wicked, we’re there too. See you later!” one of the twins replied. 

Now, all Vanya needed was to catch a nap. The game would be starting soon and she didn’t want to pass out from a lack of sleep. She saw her siblings settling in to bunks for a light nap as well. 

From a tent over, she heard the sounds of Ludo Bagman betting with the Weasley twins on who would win the cup. She heard a mother scolding her child for taking his father’s wand. The tap water running from wherever Allison and Klaus got their water from and the sounds of excited sports fans talking about their favorite team. The noise was pressing into her skull and nearly prevented her tired body from falling into a fitful sleep. Luckily for her, she was more tired than she was overwhelmed by her new hearing ability. 

Unluckily for her, her powers activated when she concentrated on the least offensive noise, the tap. Her siblings were very annoyed with her when her powers created a cold breeze that was strong enough to lift the corners of their blankets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction using characters from the Harry Potter and from The Umbrella Academy worlds. These are both trademarked by J.K. Rowling and NBCU Television Holding LLC respectively. This work does not generate profit.  
Direct quotes are taken from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. No copyright infringement is intended.


	4. 00.03 A Debt Repaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May the Quidditch match between Bulgaria and Ireland, begin!

Allison woke up from her nap feeling somewhat refreshed. The Quidditch match would start soon and she wanted to see if the result—Ireland wins, but Krum catches the snitch—would happen again. Luther was sure to mention this to the group for some reason.

Ben groggily said, “We should start climbing to the Top Box. The Weasleys have already left. See, that’s them on the path! Let’s follow them.” The tent was opaque on the outside, but it showed the people on the inside the outside world. 

“Do we have any coffee?” Five asked while stretching his arms and back. 

“Allison and I found a coffee stand by the stadium.” Klaus jumped from the top bunk. “We could check there before getting to our seats.”

Allison remembered running around in circles with Klaus trying to find the water tap because Luther took the map when he took off. They managed to find everything but the tap, but they did find a vendor selling buckets, of all things. When Allison pointed it out, Klaus said, “That’ll be more effective than using the pockets of my jeans.” Allison rolled her eyes fondly at him. Klaus was still Klaus.

Allison jumped out of her own bunk to fix the soft, gold sweater she was wearing. Miraculously, their wardrobes were filled with normal clothes and uniforms. Da- _ Reginald _ must have less time to micromanage their lives with hundreds of other students in the mansion. 

The seven of them kept the Weasleys in sight while trying to find the coffee stall that Klaus and Allison had seen earlier that morning. Allison privately thought that they wouldn’t find it and it would be on the other side of the stadium, but maybe her pessimism would be proven wrong. 

Losing Claire had been difficult. Claire had not been born yet and she probably would never be born. Allison tried to not think about that, but when it got quiet and there was nothing left to distract her, her baby girl was all she could think about. She didn’t sleep last night. The only reason she slept at all in the tent was because she was so fucking exhausted. 

“There it is! Do we have enough for seven black coffees? Nevermind, it’s magic coffee. It’s supposed to ‘Adjust to the palette of every Witch and Wizard’, trademarked,” Klaus spoke rapidly. 

“I still have money left in the wallet. I’ll pay,” Five said. He sounded very excited. _ Five will finally get his decent cup of coffee. Good for him, _ Allison thought. 

“Six medium and one extra-large,” Five ordered while smacking the correct amount of money on the table.

“Fine. Please wait three minutes for your order,” the overworked employee said. The poor girl looked dead behind her eyes. 

The coffee stall burst to life. All by themselves, machines whirled and danced while pouring out steam, water, and coffee. It was a beautiful cacophony with steam and coffee and light. The coffee whirled around in seven streams. One got so close to Allison, she was scared her sweater would get stained. 

Then it was over. The girl didn’t look up from her magazine while the coffee danced around her and into six medium cups and one extra-large that Five grabbed with a crazed look in his eye. Five bit his top lip in anticipation. Allison noticed that everyone was staring at him specifically. His complaints about coffee from just apocalypse week could fill a novel. 

Five scowled at them before taking a sip. His eyes widened. Five looked like he might burst with happiness. It was a strange look on him. Allison decided to take a sip of her own coffee.

“Holy shit,” Ben said after taking his own sip. _ Holy shit indeed, _ Allison thought. No other coffee could compare. She would know, she had tried several exotic and expensive coffees as an actress and socialite on various vacations with Patrick. None could compare to the amazing coffee in her mouth at that moment. 

Five was already back at the booth ordering as many bags of the unbrewed coffee beans as he could. Turns out it was a two bag limit. 

“We lost our guides. I hope we can find the Top Box, ‘cuz the Weasleys are,” he stretched out the next word, “definitely not in sight anymore,” Klaus laughed out. Allison looked up. They had wasted too much time getting coffee and now they had to fend for themselves to get to the Top Box. 

“Who cares?” Five muttered while clutching his bags of coffee. 

“I bet we could find it. Look, that family might be the Malfoys? Weren’t they in the Top Box too, Ben?” Luther turned to Ben who was in the middle of another sip. 

“I don’t remember. I think so?” Ben took a pause to think. “Oh, yeah! Let’s follow them, maybe they’ll get us close? Keep a distance,” Ben commanded before walking. Allison looked at Luther. He was just as confused as she was. Ben _ never _ took charge. That was a fundamental rule of the universe. _ Death changed you, Ben _. Allison walked beside Luther following Ben and Vanya. 

Five stayed behind and sipped his coffee. If Allison listened closely, she could hear him muttering to himself. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she decided that she didn’t need to know. 

**&**

Following the platinum blonde heads of Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco Malfoy led them all the way to the top box of the stadium. Upon seeing them, Harry and Hermione waved them over. Allison decided to stay behind and keep quiet. She wasn’t really in the mood to be a social person with anyone other than her siblings. _ Oh god, I have to interact with teenagers _, Allison griped. 

On the set of a young adult book adaptation movie, called _ The Diamond and the Pearl _, she had to work with several teenagers who were playing kids a couple years younger than themselves. The main character was played by 19-year-old Dahlia Elangarg. She was preachy in interviews, but teen magazines ate her up. She was unbearable. Allison dreaded her future interactions with the other teenagers in the academy. 

“I get it. I wouldn’t want to sit with _ Weasley _ either. What’s your name?” Draco Malfoy was talking to her like every casting director talked to her before she started rumoring them. The tone was clear, Draco Malfoy thought she was dirt under his shoe. He leered at her like she was a good cut of meat. 

Allison gave him the look she gave condescending teenagers and moved to sit with Five and his bags of coffee. She would rather listen to the ramblings of a madman than take that crap from someone she couldn’t rumor. She sat in her purple velvet-lined seat and stared at the advertisements on a massive chalkboard. 

Broomsticks, cleaning supplies, and clothing ads were all blasted on the screen, which was about eye level with her. They were maybe fifty feet above the ground of the large oval field. The gold light came from within the stadium itself. _ It must be some magic lanterns or something _, Allison decided. 

Meanwhile, Five had stopped muttering to himself. She saw him looking around the box and latching on to the doors. Allison trained looking for exits out of herself a long time ago, but Five must have not had the luxury of relaxing his guard and living like a normal person. She looked to the seat to Five’s left. The previously empty seat on his right was filled by a strange creature with wrinkly skin, a short stature, massive eyes, and bat-like ears. 

Harry was calling it Dobby. The thing refuted it, “My name is Winky, sir- and you, sir- You is surely Harry Potter!” 

Ben whispered in her ear, “Winky is a house-elf.”

Allison nodded at him. Calling it—her—a _ thing _ felt wrong. She continued to listen in to Harry’s conversation with Winky. This Dobby must be a free house-elf. The more Winky talked, the more concerned Allison got. It sounded like house-elves were _ slaves. _This didn’t sit right with her. These small creatures were being used and they seemed to accept it as completely normal. She resolved to do more research into house-elf rights as soon as they got back to the academy. 

She had these thoughts in between spacing out. She couldn’t concentrate on anything for longer than a couple of seconds. The only thing on her mind was Claire. _ Maybe Claire would have enjoyed Quidditch. She could be here next to me in a little red or green tutu supporting whichever team. Her hair could have little bobbles matching her tutu. I did that for her when she wore pink and purple tutus. I miss doing her hair. Does she still like tutus? _Allison’s thoughts were spiraling. 

“Ladies and gentlemen… welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!” Ludo Bagman announced. The stadium went wild. The ads disappeared and were replaced by one message:

**Bulgaria: 0, Ireland: 0**. 

“And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce… the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!” 

The field was stormed by the most beautiful women in existence. Allison had seen Hollywood’s most elite and gorgeous women in person, this group included herself, and they couldn’t even compare to the mascots on the field. 

They couldn’t be human. Their silvery-blonde hair streamed like liquid metal, but still looked soft to the touch. Their skin was perfect and their figures looked like altered photographs of models. Then they started to dance. Allison was placed under their spell. As long as they didn’t stop dancing, then she could concentrate on just one thing. Them. 

“Harry, what _ are _ you doing?” Hermione’s voice snapped Allison back to reality. Harry and Ron were by the railing of the Top Box. They looked like they were about to jump down in a move to impress the women. 

“They’re called Veela. Beautiful creatures until they’re angry. Then they turn into fiery bird things,” Ben leaned over to tell her and Five. Five was the only person in their group unaffected by the Veela. Vanya was halfway out of her seat. She must have gotten up to join Harry and Ron. Her face was so red she could stop traffic. 

Allison spaced out again. She came to when she saw a gold coins being flung in her direction by leprechauns. Klaus was standing up in his seat and was trying to collect as many coins as he could. Then she heard Ben scream over the crowd, “You do know those will disappear, right Klaus?” 

Klaus and Ron scowled at Ben. Klaus threw his coins at him. Both of them looked mildly surprised when the coins hit Ben. Ron threw his coins to the ground and muttered something to Harry. 

Bagman announced the players and then the game began. The big red ball was like a basketball that was flying around in the players’ hands. The iron ones were being hit by the players with ominous-looking bats. And the little golden ball had disappeared. Allison didn’t know enough about Quidditch to be impressed, but the flying looked amazing enough to keep her eyes darting around the field. She noticed Five’s hands were flickering blue the way they used to when he was excited as a child. She touched his hand with her own in a very soft and careful way. 

He looked over at her with a confused expression. She pointed at his hands. He gave her a tight smile and gripped her hand back. They stayed like that until the game ended. Ireland won, but Krum got the snitch. But most importantly, Five didn’t accidentally jump anywhere. 

**&**

As they walked back to the tent, Ben and Klaus were shouting about the game the way Allison remembered fans talking about her when they saw her at cons and premieres. They were loud and enthusiastic. 

“And then BAM! Lynch falls into the pitch and Krum takes off! What’s that move called, Diego?” Klaus asked. 

“The omnioculars said it was called the Wronski Defensive Feint,” Diego answered. He was still fiddling with the omnioculars. Allison wished she picked up a pair for herself. Those must be useful. 

“Hey! There’s that coffee place again! Allison can you go buy another two bags?” Five asked her. Allison rolled her eyes but took the money out of his hand. Five grinned. 

She approached the booth again. “Can I get two large bags of coffee please?” Allison asked politely. There was a different overworked employee there. He seemed just as apathetic as the girl before him. Their original cups of coffee had been stored in Five’s bag. 

“We’re all out.” The pimply kid didn’t look up from his newspaper. Allison made an executive decision. She decided that one little rumor for the sake of her brother’s coffee addiction wouldn’t be so bad. 

“Really? Well _ I heard a rumor that there were two extra-large ones behind the counter _ .” Allison watched his eyes remain normal but entranced in hers. _ I didn’t technically rumor him, I just rumored the bags _ , Allison justified.   
  


“Oh yeah, where did these come from? Here you go. That will be twelve galleons,” the kid said. Allison paid with all of the galleons Five gave her. For some reason, she thought that that price was absurd, but she didn’t understand why. She heard a rumor, and there were no consequences. Rumoring for others instead of rumoring for herself felt good. 

Five gave her a massive, completely out of character, grin when he saw her return with the coffee. He put them in his bag with a happy, “Thanks!” before running to catch up with the group. 

Allison followed him all the way back to the tent. She missed Five when he left. Her partner in crime. They were the mischievous duo back in the day. Allison’s mind suddenly threw the glitter-bomb incident of ‘97 at her. 

**&**

“Okay, when I give you the signal, release the glitter!” Three whispered. Five nodded. They needed to get Two back for what he said earlier in training. Three and Five were the Umbrella Academy’s weak links because they don’t have combat powers? Not likely. 

It was nearing their eighth birthday, so a glitter bomb was the height of humor. Two began to walk through the living room. When he got close, Three made a little bird whistle at him and he gave her a bucket. Three released about five months’ worth of collecting glitter from a small bucket she stole from the greenhouse. 

Five jumped at the same time to initiate act two of their plan. He was going to reset the camera footage and erase the parts showing the glitter bomb’s culprit. 

“What! Ahhh! Get it off me!” Two jumped around and brushed at his uniform trying to get the glitter off. It wouldn’t work. 

This prank didn’t work out. 

“Number Three. What is the meaning of this!” Dad’s voice held no room for argument. Dad had snuck up behind her while she was still at the scene of the crime. She was caught holo-glitter handed. 

“I… I…” 

Five jumped to her defense. Literally, he jumped between her and Dad. 

“Three, Dad is so dumb, he won’t realize what we did. He might think Seven’s powers are the creation of glitter or something,” Five laughed out. Five must have seen Dad and her on the security camera and decided to take the blame. Three wasn’t going to look a gift horse- or in this case—gift Five—in the mouth. She scampered off. 

“Number Five! To the training room,” Dad loomed over Five. Three decided to get away before Dad could take her to her training room. 

**&**

Allison lay down in her bunk bed below Vanya and watched the lights change through the canvas of the tent. Then she heard screaming. It wasn’t the celebration, it was victims screaming. Allison went into panic mode, “_ I heard a rumor that all of you are awake and alert!” _

Allison felt guilty as soon as she said it. “Allison, what’s going on?” Vanya asked, “Oh God, are those screams!?” 

“The Death Eater attack,” Ben must have smacked his forehead, “Luther, how could we forget about the Death Eater attack! We have to get out of here.”

Ben started fumbling for his shoes. Dumbly, Allison followed his lead. 

“No, Ben, we can fight back. The academy should be able to-”

“They are experienced magic users. We are horribly out of practice and in the wrong bodies. We need to hide!” Five snarled at Luther before jumping to grab his bag and wait by the entrance of the tent. 

Allison grabbed her wand and ran out of the tent and towards the woods. She hoped that everyone was following her. 

Luckily, they were very close so the run didn’t take so long. Unfortunately, it was very dark. “Ow, I tripped over something,” Vanya complained. 

“_ Lumos _,” Ben said. His wand lit up the area like a small flashlight. Slowly, they all tried the spell while Allison did a headcount. 

“Luther, Diego, Klaus, Ben, Vanya, where’s Five?” Allison turned her head. When she turned back she saw a blue light and then Five was there. 

“I can’t find my wand,” Five said. 

“What? How could you- Let’s look for it,” Luther said. They scoured the ground looking for Five’s wand, but came up empty. 

They kept moving in a spiral formation, but Five’s wand was nowhere to be found. 

“Oh my God, what the _ hell is that‽” _Klaus exclaimed. He was pointing at the most horrible thing Allison had ever seen. A massive green image of a green skull eating a snake. They ran towards it. 

“Guys that’s the Dark Mark! I can’t remember who cast it, only that this person is supposed to be important. Oh! Maybe that person stole Five’s wand!” Ben rushed out while they ran towards the scene of the crime. _ This feels like a bad idea. _Allison thought. 

“The Umbrella Academy, rushing into battle,” she started.

“Good luck, you multi-headed trolls,” Five finished. Their old catchphrase. Claire used to complete it with her when they played superheroes. It was Claire’s favorite game. Patrick used to play the villains. He was Icy the Ice Cream Man and Dr. Nap Time. 

Now, instead of her husband, she was facing a field with Harry Potter. And there were at least eight wizards pointing their wands at them. _ This is not the weirdest thing I’ve seen, but I have to admit I am very uncomfortable with this situation, _Allison wanted to think about this, but she was distracted by the wizards pointing their wands in her direction. 

“DUCK!” Harry called out. 

“_ STUPEFY!” _A stream of red light headed directly for Five from the bushes. 

“Stop! Stop shooting at him at once! Number Five, what is going on?” D- Reginald asked. He was a lot calmer than Allison remembered him. 

“Are you children alright?” Mr. Weasley asked them. 

“Which one of you did it? Who conjured the Dark Mark? Was it you… Number Five.” The official from earlier, Mr. Crouch, then muttered, “Is that really his name?” 

“How dare you, Crouch! My own son! Need I remind you about the last war?” Reginald sounded dangerous. In their house, that tone meant private training and skipped meals. 

“Hold on, our stunners got something!” Amos Diggory called out. 

“Well! Who is it!” Mr. Crouch called out. 

It was Winky. The little creature from earlier was caught with Five’s wand in her hand. 

“No, she couldn’t have cast it. The Dark Mark requires an incantation,” 

“You know a lot about casting the Dark Mark, don’t you, _ Missy _,” Mr. Crouch got in Hermione’s face. Allison moved between Crouch and Hermione. For whatever reason, Reginald didn’t want these government officials yelling at them. He would defend them. 

Winky had been caught red-handed. Harry, Ron, and Hermione denied that an elf voice said the spell, but a test on Five’s wand, _ Priori Incantatem, _ proved that the Dark Mark was the last thing cast on it. 

The next few moments moved too quickly for Allison to follow. Five was given his wand back and then Mr. Crouch gave Winky clothes. She was sobbing and begging, but Crouch still fired her. Allison was appalled, but that was not the most pressing issue. 

“Children! We are taking a portkey straight to the academy. Number Five, you are to report to private training.” Reginald pulled out a large tuning fork. Vanya shuddered at the sight of it. 

They touched the portkey and disappeared in a storm of blue. 

**&**

They landed in the living room. The nausea was not better the second time. If anything, it was worse. “Number Five! Now!” Reginald grabbed Five by the arm far too tight. He pulled at him and forced him to move. Allison decided to follow them. She wouldn’t leave Five alone this time. 

She followed them down to the training rooms in the basement. Five’s individual room didn’t have a singular desk and shelves filled with law and philosophy books. His room just had a chair and an assortment of restraints on the walls. Allison did the math and decided that this was unacceptable. _ Imagine Claire in this room! This can’t happen. This can’t happen. This can’t- _

“Number Five, grab the straight- Number Three! What are you doing here? Leave immediately.” 

“No. _ I heard a rumor that you can’t directly interact with the seven of us.” _ It was the easiest rumor to slip from her mouth. She prevented violence with a rumor. 

Reginald said nothing. He couldn’t say anything. 

“Thank you, Allison,” Five said as they were walking out. Five’s arms were shaking and his hands were turning blue again. This was a sharp turn away from the confident man Five was when he was saving the world. Reginald still had a horrible effect on him. 

“I owed you one,” She replied. Allison broadcasted her movements and carefully put an arm around Five. Five allowed it. 

They walked out of the creepy, bondage-esque training room together. Reginald couldn’t touch them anymore. He couldn’t cut them down with his words or with his training- no, with his _ torture _methods anymore. 


	5. 00.05 Number Five's Research

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five goes on an information bender.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back!

Five couldn’t sleep after his encounter with Reginald. It had been 45 years since he had been to private training, but seeing the restraints again had brought back the scared thirteen-year-old he thought the apocalypse had trained out of him. 

Reginald used to tie him in any sort of restraint, like chains or a straightjacket, to an electric chair. If Five couldn’t jump out, he would be electrocuted. It had taken thirty years of drunken conversations with Dolores to finally admit that he and his siblings were abused as children. Being back in that room was terrifying in a way Five had forgotten. Its sudden reintroduction was a blast of ice being poured down his back. 

Instead of sleeping, Five decided to look up a charm to brew coffee- which ended up being _ Calida Capulus _ while pointing his wand at a mug with coffee grains in hot water- and then set to work reviewing documents in Reginald’s office. That coffee Allison got him would prove to be very useful. 

Speaking of Allison, her rumor would work in his favor. Reginald couldn’t touch them. More importantly, if Five was caught, then he couldn’t be punished with individual training. He could browse Reginald’s files enough to paint a pretty decent picture of what their lives were like in this universe. 

Just after they turned twelve, the seven of them became superheroes. Vanya and Ben were their heavy hitters. One particular note disturbed Five. _ “When Number Seven’s powers become too much to contain, I will have to stun her and put her in the isolation chamber. Her powers are essential _,” read the disturbing red journal from their toddler years. 

According to _ 400 Offensive Spells _ , _ “The stunning spell should not be used on subjects under 100 pounds or 45 kilograms as the magic will overwhelm the castee and may cause permanent damage to the nervous system or magical core”. _ Vanya was placed under this spell as a very young child over and over again. Five had a small idea that Vanya’s powers prevented the damage from being permanent. He didn’t know how that would be possible, but that irrational hope stopped him from murdering Reginald in cold blood. 

The Commission made him a killer, but he never enjoyed his work. However, after hearing the atrocities Reginald committed on his siblings, he was willing to make an exception. Stunning Vanya was only the tip of the iceberg. The things done to himself and to the version of himself native to this universe were barely a blip in his anger. 

Five skipped around to his section. The book said that this Five’s interest in time travel was a fleeting interest that went away when Reginald brought him books on the runes to create a time-turner. When Five looked up what a time-turner was, he was disappointed in his other self. A device that takes you back or forward a few hours was a party trick compared to what he had the potential to do. At least this version of himself didn’t get himself stuck in the apocalypse. That would have been _ difficult. _

_ If I time traveled now would I end up appearing here in this universe or would I be stuck in the future in mine? _Five mused while moving around some of the papers that surrounded him. 

That was the last bit of semi-coherent thought Five had. He passed out surrounded by books and papers. Specifically, blueprints for a magically expanded Minerva Aircraft, complete with six dorms and a master bedroom. 

**&**

“Five. Five. _ Five _. Wake up. Five, wake up. Five, you can’t keep doing this, man." It was Luther being his personal alarm clock again. 

“Mu, wus goin on? Five more mins, Luth,” Five tried while rolling over. 

“Nope! Get up.” Luther pulled Five up and managed to get him sitting up while slumped against Reginald’s desk. 

“Five, how many times have you fallen asleep here? It’s been months, what more do you possibly have to find?” Luther asked. Five had spent his nights in August and September in Reginald’s study reading his notes and pursuing magazines and newspapers that mentioned the Umbrella Academy in any way. 

“When was the last time you slept in your bed, Five. This isn’t healthy." Luther snapped his fingers in front of Five’s face, “Hey! Focus.”

Five opened his eyes again. He had been up until three in the morning due to a teen magazine bender. Those vapid things were somewhat addictive. Not that he would admit it to anyone. 

“I need to know what’s going on.” Five did feel lethargic. He worked and worked until he passed out trying to figure out this timeline. If they wanted to stay off the Commission’s radar, they needed to keep the timeline as consistent as possible. Five struggled to keep his head upright. 

“Hey, did you know the seven of us are the only ones Dad adopted? Everybody else is a boarding student.” Five shared. He was starting to feel more alert. He reached for his mug and the Bunsen burner he used to heat up his coffee water. 

“We have thirty minutes before breakfast. You should clean yourself up,” Luther said before leaving the room. 

Five scowled. Luther didn’t have to get him up this early. Five decided that teleporting to the bathroom was a bad idea this early in the morning and decided to walk so he could find an unoccupied one. He stared at the floor and shuffled his feet like a pissed off thirteen year-old the whole time. At least they weren’t required to stick to one bathroom like in his youth.

**&**

“The elusive old man finally decides to join us! How was your bender? Any wild stories? Amputee hookers? Or were you holed up in Dad’s office the whole time?” Klaus greeted. His bright smile and teasing words were grating. Five scowled at him and picked up the carafe of coffee that Mom had taken to leaving at their table. 

“Well, Klaus. I actually had a wild time. You know teleporting a girl or three in the room wasn’t too difficult,” Five snarked back. Five wasn’t actually interested in the whole sex thing, but Klaus didn’t know that. In fact, nobody except Dolores knew that the idea repulsed him. Besides, Five had a feeling that telling his siblings that he had been up all night reading _ J-14 _ and _ Seventeen _ would lead to more judgement that he just wasn’t prepared to deal with. 

“Did you actually?” Luther looked green in the face. He put down his knife and fork and gave Five his full attention. 

Five raised his eyebrows and took a sip of coffee. He would neither confirm nor deny. 

“Right, um, moving on. You missed Pogo announcing that we were to report to the foyer for an announcement. One through Twelve. It’s supposed to be super important,” Allison attempted. 

“Who cares? Five, did you-” Ben was cut off by Mom announcing that it was 7:53 A.M. 

“We better go and see what the old man wants.” Five teleported out of the room and into the foyer. 

He was met with Number Ten who looked up from her book in surprise when Five teleported into the room. 

“Hey, Five. I still get surprised when you do that. Any ideas for what the Headmaster wants to talk about?” Ten must have left breakfast early, “Thirteen and Fourteen were pretty pissed that they aren’t included in whatever this is.”

“I don-”

“You know, he hasn’t really talked to his seven science experiments in a while. Did you guys do something? Maybe Three heard a little rumor?” Ten was starting to piss him off. Her tone was condescending in a way he threw people’s heads through walls for. 

“Se-” He was cut off by everyone else entering the room. He was going to question the nickname ‘seven science experiments.’ As if she had the right to call them that!

“Hey Five, hey Ten,” Number Eleven greeted. Eleven was tall, thin, and very good looking. They were extremely androgynous, hence the neutral pronoun. They wore their uniform with the sort of confidence that Five had only seen in himself, Hazel, or Cha Cha. For a split second, Five wondered if Eleven had ever killed anybody, but then he saw Eleven had uncalloused, delicate hands. Those were not the hands of an assassin. 

“Do you think something went wrong? Maybe the rumor-” Allison whispered. Five gestured towards Ten with pointed expression so Allison would shut up. 

Just as an awkward silence was draping itself around the room, Sir Reginald Hargreeves walked in. He stalked around the room and did not look at Five or any of his siblings. 

“The Triwizard tournament is a grand and noble tradition that has lasted throughout the ages, until modern history. You students are amongst the lucky few with the honor and the privilege of submitting your names to the Goblet of Fire. Do not disappoint me. Report back to breakfast for your schedules!” Classic Reginald Hargreeves. Short, simple, and as cold as possible. 

Immediately, whispers broke out amongst the strangers. Excited curiosity and nerves filled the room. Five hoped that it wouldn’t be him. He had proven himself already. Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, and Twelve filed back into the kitchen. Diego left with them.

Luther addressed the group with, “We should really plan-”

“Haven’t we planned enough?” Klaus clapped Luther on the shoulder and flounced after Diego. 

“Why is it still a Triwizard tournament if we’re joining as the fourth school?” Ben mused behind him. 

“Well,” Vanya piped up to his left, “Quadwizard tournament sounds pretty stupid.”

“It sounds like lazy writing to me,” Allison twirled her dark hair around her index finger, “Like some poor marketing executive or some bad author didn’t want to come up with a better name.”

**&**

Several weeks later, the Academy was buzzing in unrelenting energy and unmitigated chaos as numbers One through Twelve packed their belongings in the single, large suitcase they had each been allowed to bring. 

“Ben! Have you seen my left- never mind!” said Allison. 

“Ow! Sorry, Seven,” said an unknown person. The voice was female, so could have been Eight, Ten, or Twelve. Or possibly Eleven. Five didn’t know what they looked or sounded like today yet. 

Diego could be heard sneering, “Watch, where you’re going, Twelve.”

Five calmly packed the basics. The Commission taught him well. It took him two minutes to pack some uniforms, toiletries, and his school supplies. The same could not be said for the others who were frantically putting things in their suitcases. The Minerva would have dorms once they landed, but there was no point in bringing anything to decorate with. Ben would probably bring enough to make the space feel normal. 

They were going to be sharing rooms in number order. One and Two, etc. Five took a moment to feel bad for Vanya, who would be sharing with Number Eight. 

Then a thought occurred to Five. Five had spent months researching how to assimilate into this universe. Why not try to go home? 

As soon as it was there, the thought was gone. This was home. His siblings were here. Right? Five felt disoriented. His thoughts moved through his brain like jello. Then he simply stopped thinking about it. 

What was he doing? Packing for the tournament! According to Ben and Luther, this would be a dangerous ordeal. The goblet would pick the best candidate. If anyone was going to be picked, it would have to be him for his siblings’ sake. He was the oldest and most experienced. 

Then he remembered that he had already proven himself. So why did he feel the overwhelming desire to win this tournament?

**&**

On the morning of October 30, 1994, twelve children and their Dad/Headmaster boarded the Minerva Aircraft on their way from The Umbrella Academy to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

The plane ride was almost completely silent. There was still chatter, as Reginald was piloting the Minerva.

Allison and Five were poring over a wizarding teen magazine called _ Witch Weekly _, which was distributed worldwide, while speaking in low voices that couldn’t be heard over the plane’s engine. 

“Since when are _ you _ the heartthrob?” Allison poked him and then the picture of him surrounded by tiny hearts. 

“I don’t know! That’s weird right? I guess in this universe I didn’t disappear when I was thirteen and now people think I’m attractive or something? I don’t get it. Who was the,” Five put up air quotes, “‘heartthrob’ in our universe?”

“Klaus and Luther had pretty strong followings,” Allison paused to think, “When we were fifteen, Ben had some sort of cult? And I was the only girl so...yeah. Oh, and Diego was popular towards the end, but no one could figure out why.”

Klaus was looking at the magazine in front of Allison and Five with interest. He raised his eyebrow at Five and gave a small wave before going back to his drawing. 

Eight, Nine, and Twelve were playing a card game a few rows above them. They were oblivious, unlike Ten and Eleven, who were talking in hushed voices and looking at Allison every now and then. Eleven’s hair was a bright shade of electric blue today. They had opted for lithe, feminine curves and the female uniform, but a very close cropped pixie cut. Five barely recognized them. Ten was attempting to ask Eleven to grow their hair longer so she could braid it. 

Luther was watching this argument with an apathetic look on his face, while Diego watched with interest. _ Maybe he thinks it will turn into a fight or something? _

Ben was completely oblivious to all of this and kept his nose stuck in _ Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _. 

“Please, Eleven! It will look really good,” Ten pleaded. 

“For the last time, no. Piss off, Ten.”

“Fine. Sorry. Eight! Can you deal me in?” Ten demanded.

“Yeah, sure,” Eight started shuffling her cards again. 

Diego looked somewhat disappointed at the de escalation and went back to sharpening his knives. 

“Hey, Three, Five! Can I borrow your _ Daily Prophet _?” Eleven asked from across the aisle. 

Since they had already gone through all of their copies of that newspaper, Five said, “Sure,” and handed them the October 29th copy. It was the most recent thing in the pile. 

The rest of the plane ride passed like that. Eventually, Diego borrowed their magazines as well once he ran out of knives to sharpen. 

The Minerva flew on through the clear sky. 


	6. Commission Intermission

After Number Five had blown the place up, there were certain changes that simply _ had _to be made. All agents, regardless of mission status, were called back to Headquarters; something that had not been done in… a while. 

“Morning, Carmichael,” Prynne, his secretary, greeted. The dazzling brunette was quick with a typewriter and quicker with a smile.

“Prynne, be a doll and get me the paper too,” Carmichael didn’t look up from his coffee to talk to her. His office had been undergoing renovations. He would keep the memorabilia, but not the soft feminine touches and especially not the mirrors. 

“Of course, sir.” Prynne’s heels clicked as she walked out of the room. 

Carmichael wiped his glass tank with a gloved hand and tried not to think of the dark days when they only had seventeen briefcases from the various agents that came back from their missions. The rogue ones would be hunted the same as Number Five, eventually. For now, all of their efforts would go towards finding the little shit and _ burning _ him. Slowly. Painfully. 

Carmichael didn’t have the soft spot or _ feelings _ that The Handler let blind her to his plans. Number Five was going to die. 

“Your paper, sir. I also brought an extra cup of coffee and a couple of the scones you like from that bakery in London,” Prynne’s peach painted lips were stretched in an easy smile. 

Carmichael had finally looked up at her. Her tight, pale blue blazer, body hugging skirt, black heels, and pearls were the same as ever. Pale blue meant that on whatever calendar she was following, it was a Tuesday morning. 

“Thanks, doll. Now get back to work. Someone has to coordinate the extra hands,” Carmichael gave a fake, empty laugh. 

Carmichael looked at his paper without really reading it. His newspaper was the most complete newspaper on planet Earth. If something was happening on that hunk of rock and saltwater, he would know it. The Umbrella Academy was always front page news. 

Prynne’s heels clicked as she walked out of the room while swaying her hips. He vaguely heard her greet Shelly and Bo, who were at Headquarters at a disciplinary meeting. They would be the discipliners, hence why they were allowed to walk around. 

Perhaps their mistake was never giving Number Five a female partner? They always had male/female teams of two for field agents first ten years or so. Then he remembered The Handler and Number Five were… something. The Handler was always a jealous bitch. Now, to plot the end of the world. 

Step one was simple- get his hands on a copy of _ Extra Ordinary _. That book Number Five was always carrying around must be significant somehow. And lo and behold, it was. That Vanya Hargreeves was an author he could appreciate. A bit soft, but she had the kind of ruthlessness that he would hire her for if she wasn’t tasked to blow up the world. 

“Carmichael, line seven for you. It’s John from finance asking about reinstating per diem since we have less agents,” Prynne interrupted his line of thought. 

“Thanks, doll,” Carmichael called back. He answered line seven, an old telephone from 1943 that Handler preferred. 

“Good morning, s-sir,” the spineless accountant tried.

“Fine, John. Reinstate per diem. Make it about enough for a meal, a drink, and a fuck wherever the agent is going,” Carmichael rolled his eyes. Some people were just made to inconvenience him. 

“O-Of-of course, sir. Right away, sir,” John then hung up. Carmichael would go down to finance to kill him himself, but finance’s offices were upside down and his tank didn’t like that kind of pressure. He made a mental note to send Prynne down there the next time she was wearing red or black. Tomorrow or next Monday? Carmichael mused. 

Where was he? Right. Step two was to make more briefcases. Easy enough., Carmichael had been making them for weeks, hours, _ centuries _? He didn’t remember. That pit of emptiness called The Workshop was hard to keep track of time in. Stepping into that room was like stepping into a black and white movie with the windows always showing a black, rainy night. 

Then there was step three, local hires. Convincing Sir Reginald Hargreeves that his children would save the world was the only way to ensure it ended. Prynne dealt with him. Vanya would blow up the planet and then they would stop having so many pesky meses to clean up. So far climate change hasn't been enough. It was time for the direct approach. A fuse and a bomb instead of slow acting poison. 

With kings and rooks, there obviously had to be pawns. Less significant local hires would track The Umbrella Academy’s progress and keep them on their toes. If they believed that the Commission was easy to beat, then they wouldn’t keep their “A” game. Sending thugs to attack every now and then was healthy. Besides, causing Number Five distress was the best thing for them at the current moment. He knew that the Commission didn’t operate like that, and would grow more and more worried at the thought of who they would send next. Good thing where they ended up had such ready-made dummies.

_ Magic _. What foolery. The “Death Eaters” were always looking for a way out. A few “Galleons” here, a few sweet promises from the lovely Prynne there and they wouldn’t dare question attacking a group of teenagers. That, and he would personally join their ranks. A concealment device could make his head and lack of magic less obvious. Then, the money would make them his attack dogs. 

There was a knock on the door. “Come in, Dot,” Carmichael said.

“Sir, the person of interest has shown no sign of movement,” Dot reported. He had moved her from the apocalypse. Now she was his personal assistant to just one vendetta obsession person.

The challenge of Ben Hargreeves... Carmichael refused to say he felt threatened by that eldritch monster because he himself was only a shubunkin goldfish. Ben was an… _ issue _. A weak link and easily crushed, but still a problem. Ben Hargreeves was dangerous. His power was so close and yet so far from what Carmichael had achieved. 

“Very well. Keep watching our person of interest. You were always good at _ watching _ , Miss Dot.” Carmichael dismissed her with a wave and got back to business. He had work to do. _ Important _work to do. Orchestrating- Carmichael snorted at the pun- an apocalypse was no easy task. 


	7. 00.06 The Goblet of Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Umbrella Academy are now at Hogwarts. And who is the mysterious man?

At six o’ seven the Minerva began to land beside a massive lake. It hovered silently for a moment before softly and neatly coming to a stop. Dad stepped out of the cockpit and made a motion with his cane that communicated, “Line up, do not disappoint me, or else.”

Ben took his place (sixth, obviously) in line behind Five and in front of Vanya. Dad led the way out of the plane with the twelve of them trailing behind him, then lining up in Academy formation behind him. Seven through Twelve were awkwardly tailing him in a way he wasn’t used to but it must have looked passable. The Horror churned uneasily and attempted to whisper something to him.

“The Americans look weird,” some girl commented.

“It’s just because they don’t wear robes,” her friend replied while he looked into a compact mirror. Ben was very cold, in his peacoat and school uniform, but he kept staring straight ahead. He could have sworn that the Horror was saying something about the cold weather. 

“Do you think Spaceboy will sign my bag with lipstick?” a girl in a Ravenclaw uniform asked the girl next to her. Ben knew Luther would do it, but it would be the most awkward and patchy autograph in existence because he wouldn’t want to mess up the lipstick. When they were fourteen that seemed like a good prank on Allison until she rumored them all into only being able to quack right before training. 

“Who cares about Spaceboy? That’s Viktor Krum!” 

“For heaven’s sake, Ron, he’s only a Quidditch player,” Hermione was rolling her eyes at Ron. Ben hoped Hermione was doing well, but not enough to attempt to contact her since the Quidditch World Cup. 

“Kraken looks amazing,” an attractive girl in Slytherin robes who must have been seventeen or eighteen, began to stare at Diego and bite her lip. Ben saw Diego puff up at that comment. He remembered that Diego was a fan favorite in their later teen years for some reason. Ben rolled his eyes and hoped that Diego’s head wouldn’t get any bigger than it already was. 

“Do you think Seancé will like me?” a tiny boy asked. This kid was eleven or twelve. He was wearing Gryffindor robes and had a large camera around his skinny neck. It was Colin Creevey, if his memory served him correctly. Ben made a note to have Klaus talk to him in the future. 

“Look! The Boy and The Horror! Marcus, do you ever wonder why The Boy doesn’t have a real name?” Ben almost recoiled from that comment. It has been a long time since anyone has called him The Horror. Ben noticed Five’s shoulders tense up. 

“The White Violin is even scarier in person,” an older girl said. 

“The Rumor is the most terrifying in my opinion,” Allison muttered. Ben rolled his eyes again. Despite her changes, Allison would always be his arrogant sister. The thought made him feel vaguely warm and fuzzy. 

“Professor Dumbledore,” Dad shook Dumbledore’s hand in a no-nonsense, quick way. 

“Good evening, Professor Hargreeves,” Dumbledore offered a kind, grandfatherly smile. He looked a lot different from the way Ben had always imagined him as a kid, but in a good way. Light glinted off of his half-moon glasses that rested on his extremely crooked nose and the gold thread in his lavender robes. He didn’t look like a kinder Dad, he looked like a far better man than Dad could ever hope to be. 

They followed the Gryffindors to their table in the Great Hall. Their uniforms had red trim too, so, solidarity? That or Luther decided he didn’t want to sit with the Hufflepuffs. Ron looked disappointed when the twelve of them took up the space that had been left for the foreign students. 

Ben looked at the Ravenclaw table. He picked out Fleur Delacour easily based on the swooping sensation in his gut that reminded him less of the Horror and more of the few celebrity crushes he had as a kid. Ben swiftly reminded himself that veela allure was a thing and looked away from the seventeen-year-old girl. The Beauxbatons girls must have been cold. Three of them were still clutching scarves and shawls around their heads. 

“It’s not _ that _cold,” Hermione bristled, “Why didn’t they bring cloaks?”

“Our uniforms don’t have cloaks. We get coats,” Vanya must have thought Hermione was talking to them. Ben noticed that Five, Allison, Diego, and Vanya were also shivering. 

“Sorry- oh! Hello!” Hermione seemed to perk up, “How did the rest of your summer go?” 

“It went well,” Five responded shortly.

Hermione flushed, “I’m glad it did. How have you been, Five?”

“I’ve been doing a bit of light reading,” Five lied. Ben knew that Five had been studying nonstop since they arrived in this fictional universe. Speaking of, why weren’t they trying harder to leave? The thought left quickly when Ron interrupted his train of thought.

“What’s _ that? _” he asked while pointing at a large bowl of bouillabaisse in front of them. Ben avoided all shellfish and fish in general because they made the Horror queasy. A nauseous Horror was a bad idea, so Ben had never tried it, but he knew that Klaus and Diego enjoyed when Mom made that every other Tuesday. 

Ben wasn’t listening to Ron and Hermione’s exchange about it until Five asked, “How was France? I’ve only been there for missions.” 

“France was fine,” Hermione squeaked out, “there were some nice beaches and museums. They have an amazing magical shopping district-” Hermione continued to tell Five about it. Ben could see Five’s eyes going glassy as she continued to talk. He was clearly tuning out her rant. Ben felt sort of bad, but he couldn’t tell if it was for Hermione or for Five.

“She does that a lot,” Harry, who was sitting to Ben’s right, whispered to him before calling, “Skrewts doing all right, Hagrid?” 

“Thrivin’,” Hagrid smiled back and waved. 

“Yeah, I’ll just bet they are,” Ben strained to hear Ron, “Looks like they’ve finally found a food they like, doesn’t it? Hagrid’s fingers.” 

“Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?” Fleur asked. Ben didn’t notice her walk over from the Ravenclaw table. Ben dusted off his winning smile that won him top spots in _ Teenwind Magazine _ for two years running when they were fifteen and sixteen for the category of most attractive teen icon. 

“No thanks. You can have it if you would like. My brothers have definitely gotten their fill,” He passed her the bowl calmly. 

Klaus and Diego had added some to their plates earlier. If they wanted more, it wasn’t like they would have to strain to find her. 

“Merci, Six_ , _” Fleur tossed her silvery hair over her shoulder before carefully taking the bowl over to the Ravenclaw table. Fleur was definitely a fan of the Umbrella Academy and most certainly was a fan of Ben. The way she said “thank you, six” in French had to be her attempt to flirt, right? Unfortunately for Fleur, Ben didn’t go for seventeen-year-olds. 

Harry and Ron were both struggling to pop their eyes back into their sockets, while his brothers and sisters simply continued eating. Remembering that she was a minor made her much, _ much _ less attractive.

Klaus gave Ben a light toast with his pumpkin juice goblet before continuing his conversation with Eleven about the merits of hair dye or something. Ben wasn’t really paying attention to anything in particular because the Horror was _ singing _. Something about Hogwarts was making it happier than Ben could ever remember it being. Desert came and went without much fuss. Ben decided to indulge the Horror and eat some cherry pie, which has been its favorite since their ninth birthday. 

Ben was caught completely off guard when he finally tuned back in, only to find that Dumbledore was explaining the tournament, the four schools, and the three tasks that would be spread out. 

“As you know, four champions will compete in the Triwizard Tournament,” Dumbledore paused to chuckle, “one from each participating school. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total points after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire.”

Dumbledore took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. After the lid slowly creaked open, Dumbledore reached in and pulled out an otherwise unremarkable wooden cup, except for the fact that it was full of flames that resembled Five’s powers. Five was entranced by the blue-white flames. 

Dumbledore placed the cup on top of the closed casket. The cup was now visible to anyone in the Great Hall. 

“Anybody wishing to submit themselves as a champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it in the goblet,” said Dumbledore “Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the four it had judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to those wishing to compete.

“To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation,” Dumbledore continued, “I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line. 

“Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obligated to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all.”

The seven of them stood up to leave. The Minerva had comfortable dorms waiting. The other five kids from their school stayed behind to chat with some Gryffindors they were talking to earlier. 

As they were walking off, Klaus ran up next to him. “So _ four _champions, hmm. I got this in the bag,” Klaus bragged. 

“Out of all of us _ I _ am the oldest. This isn’t a fair competition. The goblet will have to pick me,” Five said, humbly. Ben rolled his eyes at Five being so sure. Ben wasn’t sure why he felt the strong urge to put his name in and prove that he was better than the other eleven people from the Academy, but he knew that he had to prove that he was a contender. 

“Vanya has the most dangerous powers, but we have the experience. It won’t be her,” Diego pulled a knife out of his boot and began fiddling with it. Ben disagreed. The Horror could be a contender in its own right. 

“It could be me!” Vanya retorted, louder than Ben had ever heard her. Diego simply laughed and continued flipping his knife, before putting it in his other boot. Ben thought that she had potential, but no training to back it up like he- no- like the rest of them did. Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, and Twelve weren’t even in the competition. It _ will _ be Ben or it might be one of his siblings. 

Their banter continued all the way to the dorms. As usual, Diego and Luther took their play-fighting too far and started brawling on the Hogwarts lawn. 

“As if it could be you,” Diego snarled while going in for a jab.

Luther countered by grabbling the offending hand and pulling Diego in for closer range fighting. Luther’s powers made close range fighting very easy for him, unlike Diego who was far better suited to long-range styles.

“Dad made me Number One for a reason,” Luther tripped Diego before Ben decided to intervene. Or at least try to. 

But before he could make a decision, the Horror decided it must be heard. It burst from his stomach and instead of tearing his siblings to ribbons, it wrapped one of the larger tentacles around Diego and Luther’s torsos and held them apart. ** _“Get along. You made my hatchling very upset.” _ **she said aloud. 

Ben was too shocked to think about retracting the Horror. She spoke. Out loud. It took him nearly a full minute of staring before he calmly started to retract her back into his chest. _ She needs a name other than Horror _, Ben thought insanely. 

_ I’ve always liked the name Sonia, _ she replied. Sonia it was. The name had to be significant in the name of cosmic irony, but Ben couldn’t put his finger on why he thought this. 

“Exsqueeze me, what in the hell was that‽” Klaus’s eyes were wide open. His siblings were all looking at him with varying expressions of shock and horror. 

“Sonia didn’t like that I didn’t like Luther and Diego fighting,” Ben replied dumbly. 

“You call it _ Sonia _,” Diego judged. He stood back up and wiped dirt from his pants. Ben was so glad that their winter weather uniform was upgraded when they were teenagers to include pants instead of the shorts and kneesocks combo he remembered shivering in. Sonia sent him a sympathetic shiver in response to the memory. 

“Like you have room to talk, Diego. Didn’t all your knives have names by the time we were eight?” Vanya defended. 

“Wha- how- no- How did you know about that?” Diego sputtered back. Luther laughed at him. Tension diffused, Ben looked around to see if there were any people around to catch a glimpse of the Hor _Sonia_. Luckily, the coast was clear. 

As they continued the walk back to the Minerva, Ben questioned, _ Why now? Why not at any time before my death? Or when I came back? _

_ You have proven yourself, hatchling. You have entered Death’s realm and remained loyal to me there. You stayed in this strange dimension. You have earned my trust, _Sonia replied. 

_ I wouldn’t know how to get rid of you even if I wanted to, _ Ben pointed out. 

_ Yes, you do. If you truly want me destroyed, I would have perished when you did all those years ago _,” Sonia sent him a feeling of warmth and settled down. 

“Are you okay, Ben?” Klaus asked in the physical world. “You’ve been kinda spacing out. Don’t tell me you got into the experimental potions. I heard that they make LSD look like cold medicine,” Klaus giggled. 

“No, Sonia wanted to talk,” Ben replied candidly. Klaus of all people would understand talking to things that didn’t exist. Until a few months ago Ben was one of those things. 

“Understandable,” Klaus then decided to shout, “Sleepover in Ben and Five’s room!”

“Get off me!” Ben laughed out while trying to stop Klaus from climbing on top of his shoulders. He wasn’t doing a very good job of it because he genuinely missed Klaus manhandling him around when he wanted piggyback rides, “Why don’t you ask Luther to do this?” 

“Because Luther’s no fun-”

“Hey!”

“Come on, Ben! Giddyup!” Klaus exclaimed. Ben started running, much to Klaus’s pleasure. 

“Sometimes I wonder if he’s actually a child,” Ben could barely hear Allison say to Vanya. 

Ben ended up being the first back at the Aircraft. He dumped Klaus off his shoulders and offered to lift him up before holding the door open for Klaus, his sisters, and then Diego and Luther. The sound of Five jumping into their room meant Ben could close the door and follow him into what would inevitably amount to a massive puppy pile after they all grabbed enough parchment to put their names on and slip into the goblet. 

Once they got back from the Entrance Hall, the Minerva Aircraft was once again calm. In Ben and Five’s shared dormitory, one can see a magically-expanded bed holding seven seventeen-year-olds. It is clearly two beds pushed together and then made larger and one bed. 

Diego and Luther are curled at the base of the bed, Ben and Klaus are spooning on the left bed, with Allison’s arm thrown over them. Five sleeps in between Allison and Vanya. It is the most peaceful anyone has ever seen them. 

**&**

The sleeping Umbrella Academy didn’t notice when a man with long, blond hair and a scowling face broke into their Aircraft. The bottom hem of his impeccable, silk robes looked slightly torn. The man strode into the headmaster’s suite with purpose.

Alarm wards woke the headmaster, but that didn’t matter to the man, who hit him with a stunning spell before yanking the headmaster’s grey hair from his head and adding it to a muddy, bubbly potion. The potion turned a muted green, like the shade of grass at dusk before the long haired man shrunk the headmaster and placed the unconscious man into a magically-expanded coin purse. 

Then the man drank the potion while shuddering at the taste. His face gained a determined expression before molting in agony. His face bubbled and changed, his height grew taller and somehow more imposing, and his hands grew as old as the rest of his body was turning. 

Soon, the gruesome transformation stopped. The man in the room was now an exact replica of Professor Reginald Hargreeves, headmaster of the esteemed Umbrella Academy. Reginald’s face gained an uncharacteristic smirk. He reached into the coin purse where the real Professor Hargreeves was hidden and pulled out a slip of paper and a delicate gold monocle. The monocle was placed on the doppelganger's face to aid in his illusion. 

The doppelganger walked from the Aircraft to Hogwarts Castle briskly. He opened the grand doors to the Entrance Hall and put his slip of paper into the Goblet of Fire. It burned on merrily. The age line was no trouble for the man as he was far past the age of seventeen, unlike the name on his parchment.

He placed a spell on the Goblet of Fire that would force it to pick the parchment he just placed into it and only that parchment for the desired school. Glory would belong to his family, even if it involved pain on their part. 

The man, satisfied, walked back to the Aircraft and entered the headmaster’s suite. He took off Professor Hargreeves’s monocle and placed it onto the bedside table. He then dressed in Professor Hargreeves’s night clothes and warded the door against intruders. The man was certainly going to turn back into himself in about forty minutes, and anyone seeing that he was not Professor Hargreeves would severely mess up his plan.


	8. 00.01 Hot Gossip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the gang gossips about the Halloween Feast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you probably know, this story is made by three people! We decided to do a stylistic switch-up for this chapter. I wrote this one! ❤️
> 
> -Bree/tehmoonofficial

Chapter 8 - 00.01 Hot Gossip

“As I was saying,” Pansy continued. Breakfast was  _ far  _ too early, even after four years of experience. Six A.M. was simply not meant for hashbrowns. “Granger’s S.P.E.W. business is quite a waste of time!”

Draco nodded, pushing some food around on his plate. He didn’t have the energy for Pansy’s rants right now. Those Durmstrang grunts certainly hadn’t adjusted to the Hogwarts curfew. Instead, they had decided to play  _ floor quidditch  _ in the common room. Loud wasn’t the only atrocity they committed---for, you see, they had no Snitch. A normal person would see this fact and go, “Oh, alright. So we won’t play. There’s  _ definitely  _ no reason to release a jar of flies for someone’s out-of-date toad and play ‘Everybody’s a Seeker’.” But, seventh-year Durmstrang students, as Draco began to realize, were not normal people.

“I mean, SPEW? I could spew just  _ thinking  _ about the horrible knitting job she must be doing,” Pansy drawled. A Durmstrang seventh year to her right turned into the conversation. 

“Vell,” he began. With his fur uniform, dark, messy hair, accent, and weighted expression, he was two things: completely indeterminable from the rest of the Durmstrang students, and like wondering what Potter would look like in an alternate universe where everybody was buff, vaguely European, and a vampire. “Herm-own-ninny Granger could ve right. House elves are veeery emotionable theengs. Vhat’s why Headmaster Karkaroff replaced them weeth automaved charms.” 

“You’re sounding like a Hufflepuff.” Goyle pronounced. Light laughter came from Pansy and Crabbe. Draco smirked. Goyle brightened, taking a large bite out of a sausage skewered on the edge of his fork. This week alone, Goyle had compared people to Hufflepuffs for the crime of emotional outbursts about a million times, more or less. Once he found a joke that worked, he decided to stick with it. It was a kind simplicity, really---knowing what happened next. Pansy already began to laugh by “like”, knowing where the broken record of a joke would go. She deemed it easier to laugh than to threaten Goyle to pick between a new catchphrase and a Leg-Locker Curse. 

Knowing where things went was a Slytherin joy. To plan for situations, to be resourceful, and to already have the perfect comeback to something were the holy green and silver trinity. 

Draco did not have this luxury at the Halloween Veast. Er, Feast. It catches on, you know. 

-

It was Monday, and Monday had no right to be Halloween. Halloween, despite switching days every year,  _ had _ to be required by law to be on a weekend.

Klaus led the way to Herbology with his siblings and Eight through Twelve. They trailed behind, taking in every sight. He bounded ahead. There was a surprising spring in his step. Groups of Gryffindors and herds of Hufflepuffs made their way into Greenhouse One. Four of the lined-up, glass-paned, temperature-controlled buildings stood next to the great castle, long with stout walls and gabled glass roofs. The sun pleasantly cascaded in through the glass. Everything was sparkling clean, probably in preparation for the Triwizard Tournament. There were four schools… Klaus reminded himself to go ask Ben, Luther, and Five about the name later. He overheard them mumbling about it a while ago—if life was divided into chapters, it was around chapter six of this new era. For the end of October somewhere near London, it was downright warm with a coat on.

Diego ended up at the greenhouse’s door first. He pulled it open, humidity confronting him. He stepped inside and shed his coat, putting it on a rack for protective gloves. The other eleven did the same.  _ Other eleven…  _ it still felt strange. There were over  _ seven hundred  _ others. Some weird part of this made Klaus feel relaxed. Like he didn’t have as much focus on him anymore.

“Why are  _ you  _ looking so happy today?” Five conversationally asked Klaus with his trademark snarky tone. After being around his brother so much recently, he knew this was Five for  _ how ya doing, old pal? All the sobriety and recent trauma doing well in that potluck soup you call a brain? _

Klaus shrugged. “Something about this is really nice,  _ mi hermano _ . Being around my  _ hermanos  _ and my…” his eyebrows drew together as he trailed off. “My  _ manzanas?  _ That can’t be right.” 

Five snorted. Klaus could tell he was silently correcting him. After all, you must pick up quite a lot on the road as a time-travelling elderly assassin. The  _ elderly  _ bit wasn’t necessary to pick up Spanish, but it was always fun to imagine his grumpy brother asking his targets to speak up so he could hear them. 

“There are actual magic brownies,” Diego quipped. “What’s the chance that the House Elves snuck some wizard weed into the batter?”

Five’s eyes glassed over. If Klaus had to guess, he was calculating that very possibility.

“Gillyweed,” Luther suggested under his breath, studying a ceramic pot full of dirt as he waited for the teacher.  _ Pomona Sprout,  _ Klaus recalled him saying. Now  _ that  _ sounded like a drug. Or a pretentious flavor of apple.

Klaus rolled his eyes with a wobbly grin. “Who knew Luther had a sense of humor?” He smacked a hand on Luther’s back. The edges of his mouth turned up. “But, no. I made a promise to stay clean, and I intend to keep that promise,” Klaus paused. Staying clean didn’t let him summon Dave in this universe, as there  _ wasn’t  _ his Dave in this universe. It was another Dave, one he never got to meet. A twinge of jealousy pulled at his gut. Then, it collapsed into a deep, hollow feeling. He would really never see his love again. “If for nothing else, then for myself.” Dave would have wanted that. He would have wanted Klaus to be safe.

There was a beat of silence as everyone settled in. Chatter about the weather, the new students, and, most importantly, the Tournament grew. Klaus heard the name Harry Potter once or twice. Apparently the Slytherins had started a betting ring to see how quickly into the year Harry would stage his heroic act. The Umbrella Academy members were scattered across the greenhouse. On Klaus’ left was Luther and Five. On his right was Ben, and a boy with a dark complexion. Ben and the other boy were having their own calm discussion. Their exact words were muffled by the other groups, but Ben looked happy. The back of Klaus’ mind considered that now, Ben could go wherever he wanted. Would he stop talking with Klaus as much? At times, Ben had barely tolerated him. 

Klaus shook his head to himself. Nobody paid it any attention, between their own conversations and knowing him to react to things that weren’t there. No, Ben was his brother. His  _ bother,  _ and even though that bother wasn’t invisible anymore, he would still find time to talk with him. Besides, it was better for Ben to talk with people, even if they were seventeen and fictional. Or,  _ not  _ fictional. Another thing that would take some getting used to. 

Professor Sprout burst into the greenhouse. Dirt was rubbed into her jovial cheeks, and she straightened a floppy, patched sunhat. She was shorter than Five, but taller than Vanya. “Right,” she clasped her hands together, addressing the class. Her British accent made the vowels higher, with more stress on syllables—something different from their old American accents. The din of side conversations faded to nothing but a few murmurs. “Hello to all our new students. I hope you’re enjoying Hogwarts so far. Us Hufflepuffs are always here for a warm welcome.” At this, a couple of seventh-year Hufflepuffs nodded affirmatively or smiled at Klaus and his siblings. “Let’s get started with these Bouncing Bulbs, shall we? They’re quite difficult to pot, hence the name, so we need all the time we can get.” 

-

To be honest, it felt really,  _ really  _ strange to be around so many people. It had been months since the family’s arrival in this universe, and Luther never exactly got used to it. There was such a big period of his life where he was all alone. Even when his siblings were around, he was still alone, separated from them because of Dad. But not again. Now, things had changed, and he would make sure to be as nice to them as possible.

Oops. 

Diego balled his hands into fists in the hallway, face turning flame red. The back of Luther’s mind not focused on arguing absently considered how similar it looked to Dad when he used to get angry. 

“You take that back,” Diego spat. Allison clenched his wrist to hold him back, her knuckles white. Klaus was to Luther’s left, saying nothing, but his mouth was drawn in a deep frown. Everybody else already left for lunch. 

“Diego, I won’t lie to you.” He met Diego’s eyes---cold yet blazing---with a neutral expression. His shoulders rose as his knees locked. “The Goblet isn’t going to pick you.” 

“Why the hell not? What makes me worth less than you,  _ Monkey Boy?”  _ Diego twisted a figurative knife into Luther’s back. Monkey Boy. That was  _ low. It wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t his f- _

“First of all, I didn’t spend my time running around like a comic book character.” Luther gritted his teeth. “Second,” Allison sent him a warning expression; he pushed it out of his mind. This ended  _ now.  _ “I know how to respect people.”

Diego faked a loud, bitter laugh. His head threw back, revealing two unscarred eyebrows. “That’s  _ rich.  _ That’s really rich,  _ One _ . Could you be any thicker? You’re the same age as me, same age as any of us look right now, and you think the ability to lift a fridge makes you better than us.” 

Luther opened his mouth to object. “That’s not tr-”

“Oh, really?” Diego challenged. He took a step forward, slipping out of Allison’s grip easily. His experience with defense was far fresher than hers. “Then why’d you go and lock Vanya in that cage? Huh? You’re the only reason we’re here, the only reason Patch is dead, the only reason we’re all so  _ fucked up  _ with this time travel shit _ .”  _ By now, he was inches away from Luther, pointing an interrogative finger in his face. His hand shook with fury. 

“Your girlfriend isn’t dead because of me,” Luther deflated a little.  _ So, Diego blamed him for all this.  _ “It was her choice. We’re just a byproduct of bad choices.”

“Oh, you muh-motherf-” Diego was so close that Luther could see a vein throb on his forehead. 

Klaus shoved in between them. “Woah, woah, woah.” He pushed Diego back at the same time that Allison pulled. “Calm down, Incredible Hulk.”

Diego was about to interrupt him and elbow past when something inside him changed and the fire in his eyes snuffed out. 

“I’m sorry,” Luther’s voice was barely audible. The words wormed their way out of him as his shoulders slumped. He took in a deep breath---it felt like his first one in years. He was  _ sorry.  _ “I didn’t want any of this to happen. It’s just what did and we have to deal with it.” 

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to Vanya.” Diego crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes.

“I will. I should have… a long time ago.” The end of his promise was mumbled as he recalled all those years of playing around the house and not letting her join in.  _ Years and years of being alone…  _ it almost sounded like  _ his  _ time in the mansion. 

Diego nodded subtly. The fight seemed to be over, for now. 

Then--- Klaus turned first at the two figures emerging from around the corner. Diego turned second, and Luther shifted as fast as lightning to see the tall, gangly redheads.

“Time travel?” One gave a toothy, mischievous grin. Freckles covered both their faces like specks of brown paint.  _ Fred.  _ Or George? 

“‘Monkey Boy’.” The other repeated. He had the same expression as his twin brother. “Are you an animagus?” His eyes sparkled with ideas for potential pranks and a hint of respect. They both apparently zoned out the entire argument part of it, focusing only on what interested them.

_ One of these boys dies in three years. _

Luther’s heart squeezed and he cleared his throat, his eyes shifting over to Allison before returning to the twins.  _ Rumor them,  _ he said with silence. 

Allison stubbornly beamed at the twins.  _ No,  _ she was saying in her own facial dialect. Luther frowned, but knew she was right. They couldn’t just go around making people forget things willy-nilly; plus, her powers were for emergencies and emergencies only, as she had clarified last night while debating future Tournament Champions. For some reason, Luther remembered Five looking guilty at this.

“Yes, we’re from another dimension.” Her voice was light and airy. It almost sounded like a Luna impression, despite Allison never having seen the movies or read the books. Surely, she was betting on them not believing her. 

Fred and George exchanged delighted looks. “Wicked,” one of them mumbled in awe. “What’re your names? You’re from that all-Muggleborn school, right?” 

Diego scoffed in confusion. Allison and Klaus looked equally lost. Luther nodded after a second of consideration. Too bad Five was already at lunch---he could have easily answered that. Luther figured it was a mix of all three blood types, but maybe Fred and George were right. After all, none of their parents had powers… right?

That was a thought to ask Five about later. He returned his focus to the conversation at hand. “Yes,” he shot a guess into the dark. “The Umbrella Academy. I think this is our first year competing.” 

It had been a long time since he talked to anyone outside his family and Eight through Twelve. Hopefully, Luther was doing okay. It had been an even  _ longer  _ time---try never---since he spoke to fictional twins. 

“This is the first Triwizard Tournament in,” a twin started.   
  
“Two hundred years, so it’s a first for everybody.” The other twin finished the sentence effortlessly. Luther’s mind spun; how did they  _ do  _ that? From Klaus’ subtle grin, a plan was already brewing in his head to find a way to do the same thing with Ben.

“Oh.” Luther said dumbly. He forgot about that. Four years had passed since he reread the books, but they were a source of joy for him. It was the escapism of being in a country so far away, where everybody had powers and a Houseful of friends. But now… they had literally escaped here. And it was hard to imagine ever leaving. 

At his side, Luther saw Diego smirk. Apparently his brother enjoyed seeing him not know something. 

“Fred, wouldn’t you agree that time travel and alternate dimensions are more exciting than talking about Hogwarts’ history?” A twin turned to his partner. The other nodded enthusiastically. Luther recalled that in the books, they addressed each other by opposite names. So  _ that  _ was George, and  _ that  _ was Fred. 

“I would, George. So,” Fred took a step towards the four. “Explain to us how you got a Time Turner from the Ministry while still underage.”

“Time Turner?” Diego repeated. “We-” Allison smacked a hand over his mouth. She must have sensed where he was going. She smiled apologetically at the twins while Diego glowered. He slapped her hand away and she shot him a warning glare. 

“Dad gave us the… Time Turner.” Klaus tried, glancing over to Luther in affirmation. Luther gave a single nod of approval. Klaus lightened up. 

“Headmaster Hargreeves did?” George clarified. “Maybe we could get him to give us one… in the right circumstances.” And there was that prankster look that never quite left his face.

Mrs. McGonagall must be so tired. 

Luther let a gust of laughter exhale through his nose. 

“So, what  _ are _ your-” Fred squinted as if he could learn by looking hard enough.   
  
“Names?” George finished. 

“I’m Diego,” his brother said, and Luther could see relief wave over him at finally being able to answer something. “And that’s Luther, Allison, and Klaus.” He pointed accordingly. 

“Ah. Well, nice to meet you,”   
  
“Luther, Allison, Diego, and Klaus.” George did his best Diego impression. Allison tried not to snicker. Klaus, while out of view, was probably about ready to give him notes on Diego’s tone. Luther raised his eyebrows in amusement, feeling a smile grow on his face. It felt foreign, yet welcome. 

“I suppose we should get going now,”   
  
“If we ever want to get to lunch. You four sit at our table, let’s talk about alternate dimensions while we walk.” George directed. 

Luther’s stomach rumbled at the perfect time. Even this age, he was still hungry,  _ all the time.  _ Or maybe it was  _ because  _ of his age. He internally sighed. 

“Lunch sounds  _ perfecto,”  _ Klaus enunciated with his hands. He marched ahead of the others, determined to sneak at least a couple of hamburgers away from the ever-hungry Gryffindors. 

Diego rolled his eyes at his brother, yet followed suit. They both rounded the same corner Fred and George emerged from and disappeared from sight. 

“Now, the interrogation begins. Are we in your alternate dimension? Did Harry Potter---who’s actually Ron’s friend, you know---become,”   
  


“The Boy Who Lived? And how far are you in the,”   
  
“Future? Past the Feast? Who’re the Champions?” 

Luther’s eyes bugged out of his skull at the sudden barrage of questions. He didn’t want to freak out the twins with the truth. “Uh…” he trailed off. 

“You’ll find out in a second,” Allison said curtly, clapping a hand on Luther’s shoulder and then weaving around the twins to get to lunch. “After all, the Feast  _ is  _ only in a few hours.” She grinned a mischievous smile of her own and then turned the corner. 

-

“So, Looona Luhvegood.” Rita Skeeter drew out the vowels in her enigmatically American accent. “Daughter of Xenophilius Lovegood, the editor of the Quibblahr.” 

Luna nodded. Her hands folded neatly in her lap as she sat cross-legged in the large broom closet. Rita was opposite her, an unmanned quill floating on levitating parchment. It was a Quick-Quotes Quill, one Luna knew was actually controlled by Wrackspurts. They were in favor of chaos and competition, you see. You couldn’t blame them. They didn’t know any better.

“How would you describe the general attitude of the Hogwarts students, aftahr this  _ terribly  _ tragic event?” Rita’s voice projected as if she was a Muggle politician. All good Wizarding Ministry workers knew to keep a calm voice in case a Veolan Spirit was nearby. Not to say every Ministry employee was good.

“They expected this,” Luna searched behind the witch’s head for the Veolans. They didn’t give any warning before attacking the disturbance to sound waves. “The Slytherins and a few of the other Ravenclaws were actually enlightened to see there be an extra Champion.” She didn’t mention the, er,  _ monetary exchange  _ between a quarter of the students. 

The Quick-Quotes Quill began. 

**The Daily Prophet**

**TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT SCANDALIZED! **

**By Rita Skeeter**

**Ah, yes, the Triwizard Tournament: a competition between four students from different schools. Or is it? Tonight’s Halloween Feast at Hogwarts shocked students to even crying when the Goblet revealed a FIFTH NAME! **

**Luna Lovegood, daughter of Xenophilius Lovegood, was available for comment. “My classmates and I had no idea this would happen,” she remarked between dabbing at tears. “The headmasters were enraged.” **

“And what about Mr. Hargreeves himsallf?” Rita raised a quizzical eyebrow. Her deep red lipstick was sure to attract the mistletoe-dwelling Nargles. 

“Who?” Luna asked with genuine curiosity.

**Ms. Lovegood is a dear friend of Ben Hargreeves, the Umbrella Academy Champion. They spend much of their time at school together. Could it be something more? **

Rita gave a wide smile. It reminded Luna of Neville’s toad. “How is Harry Potter, the  _ Boy Who Lived,”  _ the woman stressed this as if Luna didn’t know, “coping with having to deal with an extra Champion? He must be  _ furious  _ to haahve to change his training to account for an extra competitaar.” 

Luna gave her a strange look. This woman was out of her mind. “Well, it’s not as if he knew what the tasks would be, or that he would even have to compete. He’s not even seventeen. I assume the Wrackspurts are to blame for Harry’s slip passing the Age Line.” 

**Harry Potter, the incredibly famous Boy Who Lived, is the Hogwarts Champion! Show some school pride by buying official Daily Prophet “Potter Rocks” buttons. However…**

“And what about the other Champions? How did they react to their names being called, and then…” Rita trailed off expectantly. Her Quick-Quotes Quill was getting quite the workout. 

“There was Fleur Delacour,” Luna recalled. “From Beauxbatons. Directly translated, I think their school name means ‘handsome sticks’ which sounds a little lazy on someone’s part. Then, Mr. Krum was announced,” Luna remembered him from her trip to the Quidditch World Cup. Her family had cheap tickets, so they were there weeks in advance. “He’s the Durmstrang Champion. And…” 

**An anonymous informant wrote to us, reporting that “Beauxbatons” means “handsome sticks” en Fran** **çais! (In French.) Their theory rung that a “lazy author” plugged words into “Google Translate” instead of “worldbuilding”. What fascinating words! Surely a conspiracy worthy of the bottle cap-wearing Quibbler reporters. **

**The Durmstrang and Beauxbatons Champions, Quidditch legend Viktor Krum and Fluererere Delacour, were equally enraged by the fifth name in the Goblet. Which, dear readers, was…**

“Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.” Luna deadpanned. “The fifth Triwizard Tournament Champion, and second student competing from Hogwarts. He’s in Harry’s year, from the Slytherin House. There are two Hogwarts Champions, against one each from Durmstrang, Handsome Sticks, and The Umbrella Academy.”

“Ohhhhh, I  _ know  _ allll uhbout the Malfoy heir,” Rita prolonged her words. She pushed some Muggle designer brand cateye glasses up the bridge of her nose. Luna raised an eyebrow. At this reaction, the Quick-Quotes Quill got even busier. 

**Draco Malfoy, the fifth Champion, was not available for comment. The Daily Prophet ** ** _does _ ** **hope he succeeds in the Triwizard Tournament. His grades are higher than ever and he is absolutely, definitely not the bastard of Narcissa Malfoy, née Black, and Severus Snape. The Daily Prophet would like to retcon that fact from a previous paper, and proudly announces its new, multistory headquarters in Hogsmeade. **


	9. 00.04 Flashbacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of flashbacks. The champions are chosen. But more importantly, what happened to the versions of the Umbrella Academy that should be at Hogwarts?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update this week whoop!

Harry slumped dejectedly in his four-poster bed and hoped Ron would come around by morning. This year had started so normal for him, too. 

At the feast last night Harry watched the Americans. They were... interesting. A sort of sense of mystery around them. Ben kept looking up at the enchanted ceiling with a dazed look of wonder and longing on his face, but for the most part, everyone was craning their necks to look at the staff table to see if Dumbledore had finished eating yet. Harry simply wanted the plates to clear and hear who had been selected as champion. 

Finally, Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, Madam Maxime, and Professor Hargreeves stood up. There was something off with Professor Hargreeves’s posture that Harry couldn’t quite put his finger on. Ludo Bagman and Mr. Crouch, the main organizers for the tournament, walked alongside them towards the goblet. Bagman was beaming and winking at various students, but Mr. Crouch looked quite bored.

“Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision,” said Dumbledore. “I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions’ names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff stable, and go through the next chamber”-- he indicated the door behind the staff table -- “where they will be receiving their first instructions.”

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames painful to everyone but Five and Ben, who were watching with a careful mask of indifference. 

Finally, a minute passed. The goblet turned red and sparks began to fly from it. A piece of parchment fluttered out, which Dumbledore caught and held at arms length so he could read it by the light of the once again blue-white flames. 

“The champion for Durmstrang,” He read, in a strong, clear voice, “will be Viktor Krum.”

“No surprises there!” yelled Ron as a storm of applause and cheering swept the hall. Krum walked from the Slytherin table and slouched towards the chamber. Ben had a tight smile on his face.

As he passed Karkaroff, the man boomed, “Bravo, Viktor! Knew you had it in you!”

As the applause died down, the goblet turned red again. The second piece of parchment shot out of it. 

“The champion for Beauxbatons,” said Dumbledore, “is Fleur Delacour!” 

The girl who so resembled a veela got gracefully to her feet and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. Two of the girls who had not been selected had dissolved into tears with their heads on their arms. 

While Fleur Delacour too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was stiff with anticipation. Hogwarts or Umbrella Academy next. 

And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment. 

“The Umbrella Academy champion,” he called, “is Ben Hargreeves!” 

Harry cheered along with the rest. Ben, who was sitting right next to him, stood up and walked to the chamber. His siblings, as it was very clear that Luther, Diego, Allison, Klaus, Five, Vanya, and Ben were all family, cheered the loudest. 

“Well done, Ben,” said Professor Hargreeves when Ben passed him. Harry could have sworn that the set of Ben’s shoulders changed. He puffed up and walked the rest of the way far more confidently.

“Whoo-hoo! Ben!” cried Klaus from a few seats down. He was the loudest Hargreeves. Harry felt a sudden pang of sympathy for Professor Hargreeves. Why did he decide to have seven children? Harry wondered. 

The tension in the Great Hall was so thick you could cut it with a knife. The Hogwarts champion next…

The goblet released a magnificent set of sparks and flames along with the final parchment. Dumbledore grabbed the parchment while Harry crossed his fingers, hoping it was Angelina Johnson. 

“The Hogwarts champion,” Dumbledore said, “is Harry Potter.” 

The Great Hall went silent. Then broke out into a buzz of hushed whispers. 

“I didn’t- you know I didn’t put my name in,” Harry said to Ron and Hermione. They gave him blank stares like the rest of the hall. Harry was far too young to get past the age line. 

Luther had a horribly confused look on his face. He looked like someone pulled the earth out from under his feet, which was about the same way Harry felt. 

“Harry Potter,” Dumbledore called again. “Harry! Up here, if you please!”

“Go on,” Hermione whispered, giving Harry a slight push. 

Harry got to his feet, trod on the end of his robes, and stumbled slightly. He walked past the silent headmasters and through the door to the chamber. 

**&**

Ben walked through the chamber as confidently as he could after he was selected. “Well done, Ben” Dad had said. Was Dad finally proud of him? Did he finally do something right? Ben couldn’t help but feel ecstatic. Finally, Dad appreciated _ him _. After all, out of all his brothers and sisters, the Goblet of Fire deemed him worthy! Ben immediately thought of Vanya’s powers and Five’s experience. What made him more suited to the tasks compared to them?

_ Perhaps the reason is me. You are two champions instead of one, _ Sonia suggested.

The chamber was a smaller room full of portraits of witches and wizards with a roaring fire opposite him. Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour were grouped around the fire, elegantly silhouetted against the flames. 

“Congrauch’lations,” Krum said to him while hunched against the mantlepiece. 

“We are waiting for ze ‘Ogwarts Champion, non,” Fleur said with her back towards him. Her silvery hair was shining and reflecting the firelight. 

“Yeah, congrats to you two as well,” Ben replied. Cedric Diggory would be coming through that door very soon. 

Fleur sniffed and continued to look into the fire and Krum didn’t do anything at all. Then something peculiar happened. Harry Potter walked through the door.

“What ees zit?” Fleur asked. “Do zey want us back in ze ‘All?” 

“Something must have gone wrong,” Ben muttered partially to Sonia, but mostly to himself. 

“Yeah, I reckon it did,” Harry replied. Ben crossed the room and walked over to stand with Harry. Whatever happened to change the plot must have meant that Harry was the real Hogwarts Champion. 

There was the sound of scurrying feet. Ludo Bagman entered the room, dragging along with him _ Draco Malfoy _ of all people. 

“Extraordinary!” He muttered. Ben flinched at the word. “Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen… lady,” he added approaching them, “May I introduce- the _ fifth _ Triwizard Champion?” 

Krum straightened up and surveyed Malfoy. Fleur meanwhile, tossed her hair and said, “Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman. Where ees the ‘Ogwarts Champion?” 

Ben himself simply stared. There was no way that they changed the timeline enough that Draco Malfoy would compete instead of Cedric Diggory. The Commission would have noticed _ that _ for sure. Five would have told them if they had changed things that much, right? _ Right? _

_ Perhaps this is because of the fourth school? _Sonia suggested. Ben thought that that was as good of a theory as any, but he would have to talk to Five and Luther later about this. Cedric had a very important role as the first magical casualty of the war. Why the change?

Then a very large group of people walked through the door: Professor Dumbledore, followed closely by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madam Maxime, Dad, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape. Ben heard the chatter of the students outside the door before Professor McGonagall closed the door.

“Madam Maxime!” said Fleur at once, walking towards her headmistress with purpose. “Zey are saying zat zeeze leetle boys are to compete also!” 

Ben saw Draco and Harry bristle at that comment. Ben himself remembered that at the age of fourteen, he would have resented anyone that called him a _ little boy _ too. He remembered Five nearly attacking a well-meaning reporter over it when they were twelve. Ben would have done the same, but he was busy being covered in blood and tired from the mission. 

“What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?” asked Madam Maxime imperiously. She had drawn herself up to her full height. Her head was brushing the chandelier and her bosom was swelled in indignation. She cut a very imposing figure. 

“I would like to know that myself, Dumbledore,” said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing the kind of smile that would have been intimidating if Five had been wearing it, but looked funny on him. “_ Two _ Hogwarts champions? I don’t remember anyone telling me that the host school is allowed two champions- or have I not read the rules carefully enough?” 

“C’est impossible,” said Madam Maxime while resting her opal adorned hand on Fleur’s shoulder. “‘Ogwarts cannot ‘ave two champions. It is most injust.” 

“I won’t stand for it, Dumbledore! You said your Age Line would keep out younger contestants,” Dad said. That sounded more like the Dad that Ben remembered. 

“Like you have room to talk, _ Professor Hargreeves _ . A fourth school in the _ Triwizard Tournament _,” Karkaroff sneered. Surprisingly, Dad backed off. 

“I would expect this behavior from Potter, but the fact that Mr. Malfoy is involved suggests other reasons for why they have been selected,” Snape drawled. Harry bristled at this.

“Did either of you put your names into the Goblet of Fire?” Dumbledore asked calmly. 

“No,” said Harry. Draco just shook his head. 

“Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?” Dumbledore asked.

Before Ben could stop himself, he asked, “Wait, that would have worked?” 

“No younger student should have been able to cross the age line,” Snape replied without answering the question. 

“Then there is no way Mr. Malfoy or Mr. Potter should have been able to put their names into the goblet!” said Professor McGonagall sharply. 

“Mr. Crouch… Mr. Bagman,” said Karkaroff, his voice oily, “you are our -- er -- objective judges. Surely you agree that this is most irregular?”

Bagman wiped his forehead with a handkerchief and looked to Mr. Crouch. 

“We must follow the rules, and the rules clearly state that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament.” 

“Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front,” said Bagman, beaming. 

“Well isn’t that convenient?” Ben sneered. 

“What do you mean, boy?” Karkaroff challenged. 

“The two underage boys have to compete in a tournament that might kill them? Doesn't that sound _ fishy _? How could their names come out of the goblet?” Ben’s analytical brain was going a million miles a minute. There was something horribly, terribly wrong with the plot, but the purpose still had to be there. 

“I agree with him,” said Professor Moody, entering the room. His blue eye was spinning wildly. _ That’s Barty Crouch Jr! _Ben reminded himself. 

_ Would you like me to eat him? _ Sonia offered. 

_ Maybe later, _ Ben thought back. 

“It’s so simple that the boy just figured it out. Someone is hoping that one or both of these boys die during this tournament,” Moody/Crouch looked at Ben suspiciously. 

“But-” Madam Maxime tried to protest. 

“No. Both boys must compete. They will lose their magic if they don’t. Besides, two underage boys against much older counterparts shouldn’t be such a concern,” Dad said coldly. 

“How dare-!” McGonagall tried before Bagman cut her off. 

“Well that’s settled then! Got to give out champions their instructions, haven’t we? Barty, want to do the honors?” 

Mr. Crouch seemed to come out of a trance. 

“Yes,” he said, “instructions. Yes… the first task…” 

Mr. Crouch moved into the firelight. He looked thin, pale, and waxy. Ben couldn’t remember what was wrong with him or what happened to him after the tournament. 

“The first task is designed to test your daring,” he told Ben, Harry, Draco, Fleur, and Viktor, “So we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard… very important…

“The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and a panel of judges. 

“The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests.” 

Mr. Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore.

“I think that’s all, is it, Albus?” 

“I think so,” said Dumbledore. 

Ben tuned out the professors discussing a nightcap. What the hell was going on? 

Later, Ben took a detour to catch up with Harry, who was on his way to Gryffindor tower. 

“For what it’s worth Harry,” Ben said, “I think that you should watch your back. There’s something strange going on.”

“Thanks, Ben,” Harry said, dejected. Ben decided that running off to talk to his siblings was more important than emotions he didn’t know how to deal with, so he raced towards the Minerva. They needed to plan. 

**&**

Klaus watched as Ben rushed into the dorm that was supposed to be his and Five’s but had been taken over by all seven of them. 

“Something has gone wrong,” Ben puffed out. His face was a bright, cherry red that matched the color, if not the opacity, of Klaus’s favorite lipstick.

“No shit. Isn’t that Cedric kid the one that’s supposed to be competing?” Diego asked. He looked to Ben and Luther, the resident Wizarding Experts. Surprisingly, he didn’t take out a knife or his wand and start playing with it. Maybe he’s getting over his fascination with long, hard objects? Klaus snorted at the thought. 

“Yeah. Why Malfoy?” Luther said. “Five, did we do this?”

“I can’t think of any way we could have caused this.” Five had a look of deep concentration on his face. “I gotta think,” Five said before jumping into Luther and Diego’s room, which was turning into Five’s math cave. 

“Is there anything we can do about it?” Klaus asked while leaning back on the floor. His throat made a funny noise while he did this. 

“Well no, but-” Allison tried. 

“Then don’t worry about it! We need to get Benny-boy ready for the task! Dragons was it?” Klaus asked. No need to get concerned over things they couldn’t change. Klaus would have gone crazy if he hadn’t. A couple ghosts in the corner nodded. They had been oddly silent despite Klaus’s sobriety. 

Ben shook his head, “We don’t know for sure. Exchanging Cedric For Malfoy is a big clue that things are changing.” 

“Not only that, but Harry’s name came out first. He’s the official champion,” Luther said. His brow furrowed the same way Five’s did. 

“I think Klaus is right. The only thing we can do is play it by ear,” Vanya said reluctantly. 

“We should just- go to bed then,” Allison said. She awkwardly fiddled her hands together.

They ended up sleeping in separate rooms that night. Allison and Vanya took Klaus and Allison’s room, Diego and Luther went to the math cave, and Klaus and Ben took the room they were in. 

“I wasn’t expecting it to be me,” Ben said softly when they were finally alone. 

Klaus moved from Five’s bed to Ben’s to sit with him. “Why not? You were always the sensible one. If anyone has a real shot of surviving, it’s you,” Klaus paused. “I mean, you kept my junkie ass alive and you didn’t even have hands!” He Attempted to take on a joking tone but it fell flat. 

“Thanks, Klaus. For what it’s worth, I think you could have made a good champion,” Ben gave him a solid hug. Over the past three months, Ben has been giving a lot of hugs. 

“Alright, alright, Benny! Enough with the mushy feelings,” Klaus laughed out. “I need my beauty sleep. Goodnight.”

As Klaus moved to Five’s bed, turning the light off on the way, Ben muttered, “Goodnight.” 

“Wait, we need to get into PJs and brush our teeth,” Ben said after nearly two minutes.

“Argh,” Klaus groaned out, “Fuck pajamas, let me sleeep.”

“Nope!” Ben said cheerily. He turned on the obnoxiously bright light. 

“I liked it better when you didn’t have hands. Said with love,” Klaus said while climbing out of bed. 

“Okay Klaus,” Ben laughed. He stepped into the bathroom to change. Klaus decided to do the same and then grab his toothbrush. Ben was always making him be responsible. Even when he was on the streets, Ben would figure out how to make him steal a toothbrush and toothpaste. He had no idea how his energy and patience didn’t run low. Heh. Benergy. 

**&**

When Klaus Hargreeves woke up, he was standing in the middle of the courtyard staring up at a blue portal in the sky. This was unusual for many reasons, including the fact that he was certain he had gone to bed last night in his bedroom.

He also noticed that it was particularly cold for mid-August. The rainy weather suggested it was late March or early April, but Klaus couldn’t be sure. 

Then the portal was no more and out jumped a very familiar looking boy. 

“Is that Five? Why is he so… young-looking?” Allison asked. She was the first to speak up. Klaus finally noticed that none of them were remotely in uniform, except Five who was wearing a too-big suit. Allison’s hair had some brassy blonde in it. _ Lucky _.

“Why do you guys look so old? It’s like you’ve aged ten years,” Five paused and looked down. “Shit.”

“Yeah, you got hit with the time whammy as well, mi hermano. Besides, I like the new beard,” Klaus replied while stroking his sudden growth of facial hair. He could feel it itch pleasantly on his face. Like a tickling charm! 

_ “Did you guys drink aging potions or something last night?” _ Ben asked. He still looked seventeen. He was wearing a black hoodie and leather jacket. Ben looked -- there was no other word for it -- _ cool _. Ben made a motion with his arm as if he was going to grab Klaus’s arm, but he must have missed or something because Klaus didn’t feel the pressure of a hand. 

“As touching as this is, where the hell is my wand?” Diego asked while groping his many not invisible holsters and pockets. Whatever the _ hell _ Diego was wearing made him look like someone Klaus would meet in a fetish club in the seedy parts of The City or the magical shopping district just off Bricktown. 

“I-I don’t understand. What happened?” Vanya asked. She sounded far more timid than Klaus could ever remember her being. “And where’s Ben?”

“He’s right here?” Klaus said while looking straight at his brother. Ben didn’t look like he had aged or deaged a day. 

_ “Klaus, I don’t think I’m corporeal, _” Ben was attempting to kick a stone. Attempting being the key word. His foot kept passing through it.

“So you’re dead‽” Klaus didn’t want to deal with a dead sibling. Why couldn’t everyone else see him? Magic users can see the ghosts of other magic users. 

“I can’t feel my magic! I couldn’t even light a candle, and normally I can light a fire without my wand!” Luther panicked. He then looked down at his very big and very bundled body. “What happened to me? Is this some kind of strength ritual gone wrong?” 

“Maybe it’s just your body’s natural girth from your powers? Or low-carbs?” Diego suggested. He was fiddling with a long knife the way he used to fiddle with his wand. 

“Hey, let's take this inside. Something tells me we should eat,” Five suggested before jumping inside and into the kitchen. Klaus could tell he jumped instead of aparating because the color was mostly blue instead of white. 

Klaus then walked into the kitchen too. His skirt was flowing pleasantly around his ankles. When he walked through the deli door, he was surprised to see the kitchen was very, very small. There was one big table instead of a few hundred little ones. 

“Five, did you manage trans-dimensional jumps with your powers?” Luther asked. He cut a very imposing figure now that they were in the cramped space.

Five reached into the much smaller pantry for supplies to make seven peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches. “I have no idea what’s going on,” Five admitted. 

_ Oh boy, _ Klaus thought _ , another mission. How fun! _ Klaus climbed up onto the table and let his skirt fall where it pleased. It was very breathy on his… bits. Kind of like traditional robes. They didn’t wear those often because their uniform consisted of far more practical muggle wear. After all, a muggleborn school had no need for pureblood tradition and bureaucracy, or something like that. Klaus was pretty sure that someone explained it to him once but he was too drunk to understand. 

Speaking of drunk, Klaus felt like his entire body was floating. He was high, sort of. Present, but not really there. Klaus decided to giggle and spin the tassel thing he found on his skirt. This was a task for people far more present than he was at the current moment. 

_ “What’s with all the ghosts around Five?” _ Ben asked. Klaus concentrated and forced the ghosts that weren’t Ben to become visible in the room. Five had a _ lot _ more ghosts than should be possible. On missions, they rarely killed people, so the amount of ghosts around Five was suspicious.

“So, what do you think happened?” Luther asked after he scarfed down his sandwich. Klaus continued to take small nibbles of his. 

“I have no idea,” Five said. “However, I did find these in my pockets.”

Five pulled out a prosthetic eyeball and a battered, worn book that boasted the title of _ Extra Ordinary: My Life as Number Seven _. On the cover was a picture of thirteen-year-old Vanya, who looked meek. The author was Vanya Hargreeves. 

“I’ve never written a book,” Vanya said dumbly. 

“Maybe you will when you’re older.” Five said, “How come Dad hasn’t come down from his office yet? The monitoring charms should have said _ something _.”

Klaus hoped that the old man wasn’t about to swoop down upon them all. He decided to keep munching on his sandwich and watch the shitshow around him. The rest of them could plan. If Ben had an idea, he would speak up, but right now all he felt like doing was relaxing. 


	10. 00.06 An Okay Person

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's drama in the air at Hogwarts. Tensions are rising and Snape is worse than Five remembers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! This chapter is written by coauthor Bree, aka @tehmoonofficial on tumblr and ao3! Come scream at me on tumblr!

The weekend was off to an uneventful start. Harry and Draco, the Hogwarts Champions, slunk off to their respective house dormitories as soon as Crouch and Bagman dismissed them. They weren’t seen since. The majority of the students had decided to stay outside until curfew. The autumnal air was becoming colder and colder. Tension built in the student body like an overinflated balloon---the First Task, the Yule Ball, the fifth Champion; it was all a lot to be excited for. 

Ben slept in Saturday morning. He woke up feeling rested and tired simultaneously, like he had meditated after a marathon. Klaus snored like a woodchipper.

He got dressed in a casual version of the Umbrella Academy school uniform; a sweater vest over a short-sleeve button-down reminiscent of their old uniforms and a long pair of dress pants. He skipped the tie but grabbed the blazer for warmth, and ventured off the  _ Minerva  _ to see if breakfast was still being served in the Great Hall. 

Instantly, students of all Hogwarts houses turned and stared. Whispering not entirely unlike the Halloween Feast the day before bubbled in cliques. People were already wearing the official badges of the Daily Prophet. They said  _ Potter Rocks  _ in neon, glowing yellow capital letters, and when tapped with a wand, they declared,  _ Draco Malfoy is also an alright Champion and an okay person _ . 

Ben sat down at the Gryffindor table, across from Hermione, Ron, and Harry. Hermione sat in between her friends like a buffer. Harry was pushing some oatmeal around in a bowl silently. Ron’s eyes were up at the ceiling, at Fred and George, or wherever else they could be intentionally away from Harry.

“What happened?” Ben asked. He was the first of the Umbrella Academy to get there. He didn’t remember there being a fight in the fourth book… was there? Or had the Umbrella Academy’s presence changed it enough that some other event was happening now? 

“Oh, Ron’s jealous, nothing new. Congratulations on making Champion, by the way.” Hermione said lightly, shrugging with her fork in hand. Her other hand had a book on the Triwizard Tournament, of course. It was probably a library copy. 

Ron scoffed. With an eye roll, he crossed his arms. Harry continued to look down at his food, until Ron leaned over through Hermione’s cloud of hair and waved to get his attention.

Harry dropped his spoon in the oatmeal mush and grimaced at his best friend. “It’s not like I  _ wanted  _ to be the champion! I didn’t even put my name in!” 

“Suuure,” Ron dragged the word out. His eyebrows lowered and his eyes squinted at Harry. “And you  _ definitely  _ didn’t want to be famous, either! No, you just haaate all this extra attention.” 

Harry’s jaw dropped open. He glared. “You think I-”

Hermione slammed her book shut and Ron jumped. She shot up from the Gryffindor table, having touched absolutely none of the food on her plate. “I’m going to find somewhere else to research.” She announced pointedly. “And I recommend that neither of you eat food prepared by slave labor.” 

She stormed out of the Great Hall. Ron and Harry were silent for a second, before starting up again.

“Now look what you’ve done. You’ve made ‘Mione mad.” Ron pushed his own food away, after shoving a huge forkful of sausage into his mouth. “Now, now, let’s not make the celebrity get up. I’ll go after her, because I’m a  _ good friend _ .” He followed her steps, charging through the huge doors to the hallway. 

Harry froze. Ben wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what. The last time he read Harry Potter was when he finally convinced Klaus to turn the pages of Deathly Hallows after it came out. He barely remembered fourth year being so hard for Harry. The boy deeply sighed and rested his elbows on the table, putting his head into his hands. 

“Hey,” Ben tried. He immediately cringed. He sounded like a dad in a rom-com, what with giving Harry advice after the Feast to stay safe. “Harry, I know you didn’t put your name in the Goblet.” He really,  _ really  _ shouldn’t have said that, because Harry could ask for proof, and then how was he supposed to point to Moody and say it was really Crouch? But it was worth it when the kid turned upwards and stared back at him gratefully. 

“Thank you,” Harry slumped with a relieved smile. “Half the school isn’t even speaking to me.” His head tilted quickly to Ron’s brothers, who sat next to a tall black girl with long hair. “They wanted Angelina to be the Hogwarts Champion.”

Ben understood. “And now, not only is there a champion from their House, it’s not her, and there’s a Slytherin champion too.” 

Harry nodded quickly. “Ravenclaw and Slytherin are behind Malfoy, who they still think cheated, but they think it’s better to support him than to go against a  _ Malfoy  _ wizard.” He squinted his eyes like even saying the last name made him nauseous. 

Ben glanced over at the Slytherin table. Draco and his goons were in an animated conversation with the other Slytherins and Viktor Krum. The Quidditch star seemed bored by whatever Draco was saying. Draco had fastened a  _ Potter Rocks  _ badge to his robes, but Ben could tell from the stronger glow that it was charmed to show the Draco side with more words. The group was surrounded by Krum admirers, and Draco ate it up. He was practically radiating along with the pin. 

“You know, Hermione is right.” He turned back to Harry. Hell, he had parented  _ his  _ sibling since they were seventeen. Why couldn’t he do it again? “Ron  _ is  _ hurt by all this. He doesn’t like being overlooked.” Ben decided it was best to leave out the fact that Ron saw himself in the Mirror of Erised covered with awards. “It’s hard to be friends with the Boy-Who-Lived. It’s not your fault, Harry, but you could let him know you’re on his side.” 

Harry gaped. “How? I can’t say anything without him accusing me of  _ everything _ ! Next thing I know, he’ll be telling me I  _ breathe  _ so the Prophet can report on it.” 

Ben paused.  _ Teen hormones.  _ He nearly laughed, since Ron and Harry obviously had to be friends for life. “You could try talking to him more. Be the bigger person. He likes being around you. The Tournament is just getting on his nerves. If you pester him with enough Exploding Snap and Chocolate Frog wizarding cards, he’s sure to come around.” 

Basically, the exact same thing he had done with Klaus. Just be around, and things fix themselves _ … right?  _ Well, he  _ was  _ alive, and Klaus  _ was  _ sober. That was a start. 

-

Potions class arrived all too soon after Tuesday’s lunchtime. The rumors about the fifth Champion hadn’t died down, but at least Five wasn’t the target. After the first Ravenclaw asked him how his brother was strategizing against an “alright Champion,” he threatened to hex them and anybody else who asked. The problem appeared to go away after that. 

Everything about the Potions room was exactly how Five imagined it when he read the sixth book during the apocalypse---down to the shade of wood grain on the tables. Stupidly enough, it really did feel magical. 

Snape sauntered to the front of the class. Behind him was a blackboard with his perfectly neat, small cursive handwriting. He  _ smacked  _ his wand to the surface, startling a couple of talkative seventh year Gryffindors, right on the words---

“Antidotes,” he drawled. His voice wasn’t loud; he managed to deliver threats in an equally chilling and attention-grabbing precise tone. “An extremely important part of reviewing for your N.E.W.T.S. Seeing as you are at least semi-competent, as according to your ‘O’ scores on your O.W.L.S., you must already know enough to save yourself in a…  _ dangerous situation. _ ” He sneered at the Gryffindor side of the room. Seats weren’t assigned, but everybody chose to sit next to members of their own House. “Could somebody  _ please  _ tell me what the most common elements of an antidote are?”

A seventh year Slytherin confidently raised his hand. Five had no clue if he was supposed to know who he was, because anyone in this year would have graduated by the Half-Blood Prince. 

“Yes, Zabini?” Snape turned to his student.

Zabini sounded familiar… but wasn’t that someone in Harry Potter’s year? Maybe this was their older brother.

“Mandrakes, bezoars, and billywig stings.” The seventh year smirked, his back ruler-straight in his chair. “Bezoars and billywig stings are ingredients to the common potion antidote and uncommon potion antidote, respectively. Mandrakes… well, we’ve been over that.” 

“Correct. Five points to Slytherin.” Snape’s expression hadn’t changed from looking like his nose was above curdled milk. He turned to the blackboard and scrawled the three names Zabini had said. Zabini grinned at the girl sitting next to him.

A Gryffindor cautiously raised their hand. Snape kept his back turned to the Gryffindor side, still writing instructions for steps for a remedial antidote. The Gryffindor, obviously tired of this behavior, lowered their hand again to shout out. “This is fourth year level, Professor Snape. Can’t we go back to seventh year curriculum?” 

Snape froze, and with him, the air in the room. Everyone unanimously held their breath as he turned to the culprit. 

“Thirty points from Gryffindor for questioning your teacher.” He glared at the student so potently that Five was surprised they didn’t explode on the spot. “And detention on Saturday. Hopefully you will learn the appropriate curriculum while sorting textbooks all day.” 

The Gryffindor curled up on themselves behind their cauldron. After a beat, they sighed and started to take notes on parchment, copying down the words on the blackboard. Five had to do a double-take to make sure this wasn’t the Twilight Zone. Why was Snape being so rude to a random student, especially one that seemed to care about his class? 

“Now,” Snape paused as he surveyed the class. A stick of chalk was pinched menacingly between his pointer finger and thumb. “If we are done with inane acts against authority, let us resume our lesson. You each will brew an antidote, which, according to our resident  _ Potions Master _ , should be done perfectly while awake.” His sarcasm hit the Gryffindor like one of Diego’s knives.  _ Snape _ was the Potions Master, after all. “Then, a student will be picked to test these on after… consuming a mixture for the demonstration.” 

That last bit had Five’s mind spinning. What the fuck? This was cruelty. This was way worse than the Snape he knew from the sixth book. This was a horrible person, picking on students just because he felt like it. What if the antidotes didn’t work? What if someone  _ actually got poisoned?  _

Diego seemed to be thinking the same thing next to him. A knife spun in between his fingers quickly, a nervous tic. Vanya was as pale as the chalk Snape held. Luther and Allison were taking notes together, and Klaus and Ben were having a conversation in hushed tones. Eight through Twelve had picked seats on the Slytherin side, away from the siblings.

“The Umbrella Academy, is there something you would like to  _ add? _ ” Snape’s voice was slow and was enough for even Five’s heart to skip a beat. Five traced Snape’s line of sight to Klaus and Ben, who hadn’t noticed the professor addressing them. 

“Yes, actually. This is  _ disgusting _ .” Five stood from his seat. A few Gryffindors sent him  _ what-are-you-doing  _ warning looks. Somehow, it reminded him of all those years ago when Vanya had sent him the same warning sign. Standing up and arguing with a man who was out of place gave him an extreme sense of deja vu. With any luck, it couldn’t get any worse than last time. “You’re just terrorizing your students! And for what? There isn’t any learning component in this. Your class is teaching  _ fear _ .” 

This stirred the Potions class into outbursts. Around ten voices spoke at once, all either agreeing with Five or trying to apologize for him. The Slytherins stayed silent. Five’s research indicated that the Slytherin House was known for self-preservation, so this didn’t surprise him. 

Snape held up a single hand. Immediately, the students silenced. An ominous stillness strangled the classroom. 

“I understand that you are not my student,” he enunciated each word as if a normal person was undeserving of them. Five could tell that it was taking all of Snape’s energy not to lash out.  _ Did Dad have that much of an effect, that he could scare even this teacher into submission?  _ “But you are the  _ most  _ unruly, impulsive, reckless student that I have ever seen at this school. I am sure Headmaster Hargreeves would not be pleased to hear about your… misdemeanor. Neither would the press, which seems to love your family dearly.” 

Allison rumored Dad into not directly interacting with any of them. Five was safe from any punishments. And so, he continued. If this did nothing but piss him off, that was a feat unto itself. Sure, he seemed to be angered by even  _ breathing _ incorrectly, but it didn’t make Five smile any less to see the Potions Master boil with rage. 

“Oh, no, he won’t be.” Five’s words were recklessly cheery as he carried on. “It doesn’t matter. You were hired in what, 1980? So you’ve been spending nearly fifteen years bullying children for no reason? Or, is there one?” 

Five’s smug smile grew on his face. “ _ Professor _ ,” he said the title mockingly, “I think my classmates have a right to know why you especially choose to traumatize the Gryffindors.” 

Snape was shaking with fury. He took three sweeping, swift steps towards Five. The intensity in his eyes completely looked like he is capable of and definitely has killed a man. He had been a Death Eater, and it showed in this unbridled hurricane of sharp insanity.

This, very briefly, knocked Five down a peg. His short bout of fear was interrupted by Diego, who jumped to his feet in solidarity with his brother. 

“Sn-Snape, he’s right. There’s no reason to be mean,” he recalled Mom saying the exact same phrase to him whenever he and Luther would get in a fight. “After all, you teach for Hogwarts, and these are Hogwarts students… that’s not a good model to be setting for socie- the students.” 

Diego had no clue this was most likely the worst thing to do in the situation, except for maybe stabbing Snape right then and there. The greasy bat stood there, halfway between murdering these Umbrella Academy students and waxing poetic with various flower-based foreshadowing. 

Five, after all this, had to be a believer of alternate timelines. As Colin Creevey burst into the room with his camera around his neck, Five had to thank whatever powers there may be that he was gifted this slight mercy. He wished an alternate version of himself the best luck possible.

“What, you incompetent child, is so important,” Snape’s voice boiled with anger, “that you must interrupt my class?” 

Colin flinched and took in a deep breath. Five, standing, could just see his head poking out from the rows of cauldrons. With his sandy blond hair, he almost reminded Five of Ben before his brother’s hair naturally grew darker. “Please, sir, I’m supposed to take Benjamin Hargreeves upstairs.” 

Five raised an eyebrow.  _ Benjamin Hargreeves? _ Who the hell in authority would call his brother  _ that _ ? Certainly not Reginald, who never cared to learn their names. Grace had named them all at the age of ten—Five refused to use his name, because it simply was atrocious and should never see the light of day. But Ben wasn’t short for anything, he was just  _ Ben _ . 

Snape stared down his hooked nose at Colin, whose smile had long faded from his eager face.

“Hargreeves has another hour of Potions to complete,” said Snape coldly. “He will come upstairs when this class is finished.” 

Colin went pink.

“Sir---sir, Mr. Bagman wants him,” he said nervously. “All the champions have got to go, I think they want to take photographs…” 

A silence like a shaken blanket disturbed any last tension to the surface. 

“Very well, very well,” Snape snapped. “Hargreeves, leave your things here, I want you back down here later to test your antidote. And a detention tonight for each of the overconfident, pompous seven  _ prime  _ members of the Umbrella Academy.”

Ben swallowed hard and sprung from his chair. He grabbed his bag and tried to restrain himself from making a mad dash for the door. Snape was already so goddamn terrifying in the books, did they  _ really  _ have to experience it in real life? 

After Ben left, the class’ stirred emotions were in the air for a moment longer. Snape marched back to his blackboard, his eyes away from the class, and Five took the opportunity to stealthily sit back down in his chair. Diego did the same and sent a desperate look at Five. They were both thinking the same thing: no more making any additional enemies than necessary.  _ Keep your head down, and stay alive. _


	11. 00.06 The Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An immediate continuation of chapter 10. The Hargreeves siblings face the halls of Hogwarts, the mysterious and Un-charming Professor Snape, and the Forbidden Forest. What interesting things will they find?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, this was supposed to be part of chapter 10, but we split it.

During dinner and before detention, Ben and Luther were in the library discussing the first task with their homework on the table to give the librarian (Pinch, Mince, _ Pin _ce) and themselves the illusion of working. The Weighing Of the Wands Ceremony (which Ben capitalized like that in his head) was uneventful. Rita Skeeter wasn’t there to interview anyone. Instead it was a photographer named Bozo and a lovely woman named Opal Copeland who talked to everyone in the room. Ben’s wand (alder wood, rigid, with a Nymph hair core) produced light, multi-colored puffs of smoke and was deemed well made, if odd, by Olivander. 

Luther and Ben had been talking about everything and nothing until the topic turned to the tournament. 

“Okay, so assuming that it’s still dragons, which I hope it is, what are your strengths?” Luther asked while playing with a fancy quill between his thumb and index finger.

“I have an eldritch horror named Sonia living somewhere in my torso,” Ben deadpanned. 

Luther leaned back in the chair, “Besides that?” 

Ben took a second to think. _ Literature? Does that count? _

_ I don’t think so, hatchling, _ Sonia replied softly. She had been mother-henning him recently, and Ben couldn’t say he hated it. It felt _ nice _ to be taken care of for once.

“Nothing I can think of. I wasn’t a hand to hand heavy hitter like you, Diego, or Five. And I still suck at magic,” Ben said thinking about his classes and how the theory flew over his head. 

“You don’t suck,” Luther started, “you just need to find a study method that works. Besides, I don’t think Diego’s power or mine would be much help. What’s Diego gonna do? Throw knives from that harness until the dragon submits?”

Ben snorted. Luther was clearly trying to put Ben in a better mood. And for the most part it worked. “Can you imagine Five staring down that dragon,” Ben joked. 

“I don’t think that I’m better than you, massive creature that could kill me with fire,” said Luther, affecting a high, nasal voice to imitate Five, “I _ know _I am.” 

“Then he’d teleport to the egg and jump out of the arena, making sure everyone knows just how good he is,” Ben added. Making fun of their siblings was always a good pastime he and Luther had had. Especially towards the end of Ben’s life. Sometimes, it was easier to pretend that the Academy wasn’t falling apart. 

“So, are you going to summon Five from the stands and make him get the egg for you? Because that’s not a half bad plan,” Luther joked. 

“Well, the idea has merit but I don’t think Five would- oh fuck we have to get to detention,” Ben gathered his things quickly and waited for Luther to do the same. They rushed out of the library and towards the dark dungeons. 

The castle was twisting and confusing. Ben could vaguely remember how Harry described it in the first book. The trick staircases and doors pretending to be walls pretending to be doors were ridiculous. They rushed through the halls while trying to remember the way to the dungeons when Ben- literally- ran into Klaus and knocked him over.

“Oof! Hey watch- oh hey, Ben,” Klaus said, irritated. Ben apologized by holding out his hand to help him up, and marveled at the fact that he could physically help Klaus. That never got old. Ever. 

“Any luck, Klaus?” Luther asked.

“With what? Finding the magical equivalent to-”

“He means finding the dungeons, Klaus,” Ben interrupted. 

“Oh, um, no. I’ve been looking for it but there aren’t any students around so I’ve been just wandering. Do you think the halls move just to mess with you? Because that seems like a thing this dumb, haunted, castle would do!” Klaus raised his voice and yelled up at the ceiling. The portraits took offence and started yelling back. 

“Well, we’re already late so we may as well keep going,” said Luther. For a lack of anything better to do, Ben and Klaus let him lead them. They got lost at least twice before they ended up outside the potions classroom once more. Snape was sitting at his desk with the door open, waiting for them.

“The rest of you dimwits are here. Finally,” Snape drawled. Diego, Allison, Five, and Vanya were already seated. Five looked absolutely furious but was miraculously holding his tongue. “You will be scrubbing these cauldrons until five minutes before curfew. A little hard work ought to teach you some… humility.” Snape then went back to grading some papers. 

The Umbrella Academy was no stranger to hard work, but these cauldrons were something else. There were stuck, burnt pieces of _ confusion _ on them. There was no way to describe it. Ben and Klaus worked together on one while everyone else had their own. The one Ben was currently trying to scrub with a provided piece of steel wool was _ horrendous _. 

_ Don’t bring me into this _, Sonia said lazily. Ben nearly laughed out loud at her commentary. Klaus shot him a weird look so maybe he wasn’t doing so well at hiding his amusement. 

This continued for a quarter of an hour when Karkaroff burst through the door. “Snape!” he started dramatically, “I need to talk to you! It is _ desperately _ urgent.” His voice dropped into a whisper. The oily sneer was replaced by fear. _ Voldemort must be getting stronger _, Ben thought idly. 

“I’m busy, Karkaroff,” Snape didn’t even bother to look up at him. 

“No, you will talk _ now _!” Karkaroff’s voice developed a dangerous tone. 

“Very well, into my office,” Snape agreed lazily. “Keep scrubbing.” He warned them before sweeping into the side room with the nervous Karkaroff trailing behind. 

As soon as the office door closed, Allison asked, “So what’s that all about?” 

“Never mind, I’ll tell you later. Five, is there any chance the first task is no longer dragons?” Ben looked straight at him.

Five straightened up, “Well, sure there’s a chance, but if it was dragons in the book it should still be dragons… wait. Dragons? What the hell are you doing with a dragon!”  
  


“I have to steal a golden egg from a nesting mother,” Ben answered. Five looked oddly pale and a little green. Ben had never seen him so anxious. 

“Oh, sure. That will be easy,” said Five faintly.

“Woah, woah, woah, wait a minute,” said Diego, “We don’t even know if there _ are _dragons for sure.” 

Vanya tilted her head towards the door. She was still scrubbing her cauldron. “We could go check,” she suggested.

“Are you crazy? Old Bat Boy will get his panties into a twist the second we leave. Look at my nails! Do you want to risk doing _ this _ again?” Klaus held up his hands, showing off his broken nails with strange cauldron crust under them. 

“I’m with Vanya. Now is the perfect opportunity to go check. No one would suspect a thing,” Diego voted. 

“I think we should stay here, too,” said Allison.

“What about you, Five, Luther, Ben?” Vanya asked while attacking a particularly stubborn clump. 

“We should check,” said Luther. Allison shot him a hurt look. They usually took the same vote. “This could be dangerous if Ben doesn’t know what he’s facing. Ben?”

“Sorry, Klaus. I’m with Vanya, too.” said Ben. His reasons needed no explanation. 

“Okay, that’s four for going, two for staying. Any thoughts, Five?” Allison looked at Five pointedly, but Ben wasn’t sure what kind of message she was trying to get across. 

“If we leave now, we can get back before Snape notices we left,” said Five, "I would teleport everyone out, but I don't know where I'm going. We could end up in the middle of a wall." They all looked at each other for one long moment, then they calmly exited the classroom. 

“So, does anyone remember how to get to the entrance hall from here?” Klaus asked. Ben groaned. Who was Five kidding? This was going to take forever. Forget not being caught, they were going to be mauled to death by the castle before they even got to the forest. 

**&**

After a lot of stumbling, cursing, and getting lost,---

“I’m sure it’s this way!” 

“Yeah, because the last time we followed you that was _ great _. Do I still have cobwebs in my hair?”---

They managed to get outside and to the edge of the forbidden forest. 

“Well, onward,” said Luther. They went into the forest.

“Did anyone bring a flashlight?” asked Ben. Five was using his powers as a light, but would accidentally jump every now and then. 

“Dude, we’re wizards. _ Lumos _ ,” Diego cast. Ben rolled his eyes. Like Diego hadn’t just thought of that himself. Ben also cast _ Lumos _ and the others quickly did the same. Five continued to use his blue light either to be contrary or because it was genuinely a bit brighter. 

“Are we going in the right direction?” asked Allison. After getting several cobwebs in her hair from the last time they all followed Five, her bitchy tone was justified. 

Luther cancelled the light on his wand and then tried, “_ Point Me, Dragons. _” This was surprisingly successful. Ben cursed himself for not thinking of this spell earlier. Five and Luther stood in the front of the pack while everyone else trailed behind. Vanya tripped on several things including tree roots, tall grass, suspicious plants, and thin air. Even though the seven of them had fucked up camping trips from hell, Vanya never had stealth training and it really showed. It was a miracle they hadn’t run into any centaurs or other dangerous creatures yet. 

_ Maybe the forest decided Vanya is a dangerous creature all by herself _, Ben thought darkly while helping her up again. 

_ I am the most dangerous creature here _ , replied Sonia imperiously. She sent the image of Five’s smug, holier-than-thou expression. Ben supposed she was right. Sonia could probably take on a centaur and win _ easily _. 

_ Of course. I could take on any creature in this forest, _ she said. 

Then the rustling of the trees grew quieter and the light grew brighter. They continued on until they found some convenient shrubbery to hide behind as they watched the dragon handlers work. 

“I don’t know why Dumbledore is allowing this. The task is ages away! Why does Hargreeves want them here this early?” an attractive red-headed one said. 

“Weasley! Come help me with the fireball!” 

“Coming, Jordan,” Charlie Weasley, muscular dragon handler, said back. 

Ben and Vanya exchanged significant looks. This was what they were here to see. Five magnificent dragons and their nests were gathered in this convenient clearing. 

“Guys, we have to get back,” said Luther. Ben drank in one last look so he could look them up later and turned to Five and Luther. 

“_ Point Me, Hogwarts Potions Classroom _,” casted Luther. They walked back in awed silence. It only took them fifteen minutes to get back to the cauldrons. Luckily, they walked in two minutes before Snape showed Karkaroff out. 

**&**

Meanwhile, one universe and 3.5 thousand miles away, The Umbrella Academy were in the Hargreeves mansion. 

“So, any luck finding _ anyone? _” asked Allison. They had all reconvened in the too-small kitchen. 

“No, but I did find this,” Five held up a muggle newspaper with his too-small hand. Five should be exactly her height, but instead he was as short as Vanya. 

The newspaper pronounced the death of Sir Reginald Hargreeves. 

Luther, with his too-big hands, snatched the paper. Allison peered over his arm. The Headmaster was _ dead_. 

  
  



	12. 00.06 High Temperatures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben faces the music- er, dragon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is written by [Liv](https://peachygos.tumblr.com/)! It's in present-tense instead of the usual past, which shouldn't be too much of a problem but may be an adjustment. Sorry for taking so long with this chapter, I hope you didn't miss us too much ;) /j
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy!

Bagman is dressed in his old Wasp robes again. Ben has no idea why, but the contrast to the tight-lipped stiff-jawed contestants is sharp.

_Like dragon teeth,_ says Sonia. _Very sharp, those._

Ben swallows. _Thanks, Sonia._

_No problem,_ she says, lazily, and he can almost imagine her stretching her muscles after a sleep. If she had lips she would probably smack them in contentment. The juxtaposition of this entire situation is… staggering. _How many teeth do you think yours will have?_

_You aren’t helping,_ hisses Ben. _Enough about the teeth._

_You thanked me,_ Sonia says, her tone now carrying hints of defensiveness.

_Sarcasm, Sonia. Sarcasm. Just, no more sharp teeth, alright?_

_Alright,_ says Sonia sulkily. It seems like ether tentacle monsters aren’t versed in sarcasm, Ben muses.

He realizes that he’s missed part of Bagman’s speech. (“Speech”?) The wizard is holding a small sack made of what looks like purple silk in the air, shaking it pointedly. Ben winces at the word _varieties_—as do most of the other contestants. _Varieties_ is never a good thing when it comes to giant danger-lizards, he remains firm on this.

“And I have to tell you something else too… ah, yes… your task is to—” Bagman pauses poignantly, “—_collect the golden egg!_”

_Eggs are nice,_ informs him Sonia. _Nice and yellow in the center._ Ben ignores her in favor of watching Harry Potter, whose eyes are darting around nervously.

_He’s just a kid,_ he thinks, in the private corners of his mind. _He’s, what, fourteen? Oh my god. Who in their right mind would let this child fight a _dragon_?_

The entire Wizarding World, apparently.

(It’s worse, too, because Ben knows that Harry didn’t get a choice. Not in this timeline, nor the original. The other champions had volunteered, while he had this forced upon him.)

_It isn’t fair,_ agrees with him Sonia. _Isn’t fair at all._

Ben tears his eyes away from the young boy to take note of his other—it feels wrong to call them his _opponents_ when he has such an unfair advantage of decades more life experience—competitors. Draco Malfoy looks slightly green in the face; Fleur Delacour and Victor Krum are wearing matching masks of stone-faced indifference, their true feelings on the matter carefully concealed. (Though even they look tense—Fleur’s countenance is pale and clammier than usual, and Krum looks even more surly than he did when Ben last saw him.) (No, he does _not_ make a quick comparison to Five’s early morning death glare and, well, general disposition. He _doesn’t_.)

A crowd passes outside the tent.

It’s like an elephant stampede, but _worse_—like the media hounding on them after a mission, like paparazzi clamoring for a five-minute interview. Like—and Ben has to stop an outward wince at the word—_tourists_.

(“What’s so bad about tourists?” he’s sure someone has said once—Ben will find them and eviscerate them.)

_Ah,_ remarks Sonia, without further comment as Bagman pulls open the bag.

“Ladies first,” he says, and Fleur suddenly looks extremely uncomfortable. She reaches into the pouch with shaking fingers, flinching before bringing out a cupped palm with a tiny dragon carefully cradled in it. A Welsh Green, with a number two around its neck.

Fleur, still rocking her resting bitch face, runs a slow finger down the spine of the model with resigned determination.

Krum is next—pulling out a Chinese Fireball. (Number three; Ben has the glorious idea to tease five of his siblings with _completely _un-suspect dragon nicknames in the near future.) Krum sits back down and stares at the ground like it has personally offended his family going for at least six generations.

Harry draws next.

Everyone reacts when a hamster-sized Hungarian Horntail curls up in the boy’s hand. A wince, cringe, hiss, click of the teeth. There’s a brief moment of _sound_ in the champion’s tent. The dragon bares its fangs at Ben, and he has to resist the urge to hiss back.

The thought of Harry’s lot lingers as Malfoy shakily withdraws a Swedish Short-Snout from the bag. Number one.

Ben has no idea what kind of poison he’s picking as he sticks his hand into the bag and feels around. His fingers brush something small, scaly, _wriggling_—

“Norwegian Ridgeback!” says Bagman with far too much glee than which the moment calls for. Ben thinks he’s heard the name before, but for the life of him can’t remember when or where.

Bagman clears his throat, knotting his hands together in front of him. “Well, there you are! You’ve each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order you are to take on the dragons, do you see?” Ben finds that the way he talks is incredibly annoying. Is it a British thing, a Wizard thing, or just a Bagman thing? “Now, I’m going to have to leave you in a moment, because I’m commentating. Mr. Malfoy, you’re first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right? After that, Miss Delacour and Mr. Krum, followed by Mr. Potter and Mr. Hargreeves. Everyone got it? Splendid. Now,” he says, “Harry… could I have a quick word with you?”

“Er…” says the boy, clearly confused, blank as a slate. “Yes. Sure.” He follows Bagman out of the tent, leaving the rest of the champions to loiter around, marinating in their anxiety.

“So, uh…” says Ben, trying to ease up the silence. “Break a leg?”

He is suddenly on the receiving end of three glares of varying intensity. Ben raises his hands in a surrendering gesture, resisting the urge to giggle nervously. It’s not that the glares are intense—he’s been glared at by Diego and Five plenty enough that he is immune by now. But the way that all three wizards turn to stare at him in sync is, unnerving, to say the least.

Before anyone can resort to bodily harm, a whistle blows.

Draco turns significantly greener than he was a moment ago. Ben doesn’t say anything as he stumbles past, though he would have liked to wish him luck. He certainly looks like he needs it, in all his—_oh my god why are they so young_—fourteen-year-old glory.

Harry enters the tent as Draco is leaving it, chewing on his bottom lip, frowning. Seconds later, the crowd roars, which means Draco has entered the enclosure, now face-to-face with his dragon…

_This seems like child endangerment,_ says Sonia. _I feel as if it should not be permitted._

_Yeah… yep. you and me both._

Ben feels his anxiety spike, sitting here and listening to the crowd’s roar without being able to see anything going on outside. The audience screams, yells, gasps as Draco does whatever he’s doing to get past his Swedish Short-Snout. Krum is still glaring at the ground. Fleur is pacing, wringing her hands in front of herself.

Bagman’s commentary makes everything so much worse.

“Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow.” The crowd gasps. “He’s taking risks, this one!” The crowd yells. “_Clever_ move—pity it didn’t work!” Someone cries out.

Finally, Bagman shouts, “Very good! And now, the marks!”

He doesn’t yell out the marks. Ben assumes that the judges are holding them up for the crowd to see, and there’s no need to verbalize them, but not hearing the results does nothing to help his growing sense of unease.

As the whistle blows again, Bagman yells, “One down, two—er, four—to go! Miss Delacour, if you please!”

Fleur takes a shaky breath, clenching her hand around her wand and holding her head high. She leaves the tent with grace, not looking back. Ben, Krum, and Harry are left alone, pointedly not looking at each other.

The process repeats again. Bagman calls out very unhelpful things, building up tension, and then shattering it with his enhanced voice. Ten minutes later, Ben’s heart is beating hard inside his chest, even though he’s just been sitting around waiting. Ten minutes later, the crowd erupts into applause, and all three of them let out a relieved breath. Fleur must have been successful as well.

Krum is next, slouching out of the tent with a crease deep between his furrowed brows. The Chinese Fireball shrieks, a horrible sound which Harry flinches at bodily, and which makes Ben’s eye tick.

_That’s almost as loud as you used to be,_ he muses to Sonia. _Before._

_Apologies,_ she says mildly.

_It’s alright. We’re past that now, aren’t we?_

_No promises. I may put on a show in a minute._

Ben rolls his eyes, glad to have Sonia as his anchor right now. _Fine, fine. Just don’t maim anyone._

Sonia gives off a distinct feeling of offense. Ben bites his lip to contain the smile pushing at the corners of his mouth.

“And—yes! He’s got the egg! Bravo, Mr. Krum!”

The stillness of the tent is shattered by applause and Harry groaning into his hands.

“Don’t be sick,” says Ben. He tries an encouraging smile and grins when Harry tentatively returns it. “You’ve got this.”

“Thanks,” croaks Harry. The whistle blows, Bagman calls his name, and Harry Potter leaves the tent.

Ben is left alone in the tent.

_He’ll be alright,_ he assures himself. _Everyone else is fine, he’s the main character, he can’t die right now. He’ll be okay._

“Look at that!” screams Bagman, only minutes later. “Oh, well I’ll be—would you look at that! Harry Potter, one of the youngest champions, is the quickest to get the egg!”

Ben clenches and unclenches his fists.

_Let’s go?_ asks Sonia. He nods decisively.

_Yes,_ he says, _let’s._

**&**

The enclosure is not small, but that doesn’t do anything to help Ben’s discomfort at the _dragon_ on the other end of it. He—well, technically he _did_ sign up for this, but is it too late to back out now?

_Far too late, child,_ says Sonia.

_I’m not a child,_ says Ben. _I’m a full grown adult… teenager. Person._

_Then stop acting like a child,_ she retorts, with a hint of smugness. _Come on—I’d like to speak to the giant lizard._

Ben doesn’t bother correcting her on what exactly she is about to talk to. (Oh, Christ on a cracker, to steal Klaus’ line—what if it _doesn’t work?_ Maybe, just _maybe,_ _possibly,_ he should have had a backup plan. And another. At least three of them.)

Ben swallows and moves deeper into the arena. The crowd watches with bated breath, everyone leaning to him from the edge of their seat.

Ben thinks, if he were born a wizard, now would be the moment he raises his wand to cast a spell—instead, he raises a hand. And slowly, slowly, pushes the hem of his robes over his stomach. He exposes his skin to the open air and concentrates, gently _ripping a hole—_

_Hello,_ he hears Sonia say. The dragon…

Well, Ben doesn’t _speak dragon,_ or even snake, he doesn’t know what’s going on, not really, but to him—to him it looks like the dragon is listening.

“What is he doing?” boom Bagman’s voice. “Mr. Hargreeves, he appears to be—oh, oh! Incredible! He’s unleashing his monster!”

_She’s not a monster,_ thinks Ben with disdain. _I can see that, now. She’s not a monster._

The dragon seems to nod, making some sort of… clicking? Chirping? Noise. Ben didn’t watch enough dragon movies to know what the hell that is about.

Sonia sways gently, so unlike how she used to be, in the _before._ It’s painless—only a slight ache in Ben’s middle region. A pressure from the inside out, a warm lightbulb on the underside of his flesh. But it’s so… easy.

The dragon tilts its head. Ben realizes Sonia is… waving.

He tenses, prepared to hold his ground if the magic dinosaur decides that Sonia isn’t friendly enough. He doesn’t have anything to protect himself with, all it would take from the dragon is one puff of fire; and everything would be over.

(Why is this allowed, again? Is this legal? This _can’t_ be legal. Surely. Ben’s life is just… so goddamn weird.)

“Ni_—_ice dragon,” he finds himself muttering, like a mantra. He remembers a late-night excursion with Klaus in a dark alleyway, involving things that probably were on the wrong side of legal and a possibly rabid raccoon. Klaus raised his hands, _hello-goodbye,_ and talked to the animal, trying to placate it and get as far away from it as fucking possible. God_damn,_ he wishes this dragon were the size of that raccoon.

Thankfully, his fear that the dragon will act like an aggressive (and very, _very_ oversized) scaly cat does not play out. Instead, it watches Sonia attentively, and makes chirping sounds periodically.

_The egg,_ says Sonia, startling Ben. _Weld says it’s alright. Just the golden one._

_Weld?_

Ben gets the distinct feeling Sonia is rolling her eyes.

_The dragon. She says you can take the gold egg._

“Oh,” says Ben out loud. “Thanks… Weld?”

The dragon preens.

_What the fuck_ bounces around Ben’s head on loop as he carefully takes one, two steps toward the dragon—_Weld,_ apparently. He hears Bagman narrating—rather poorly in his opinion—Ben’s movement. He passes by Weld, ducking past her tail, twitching at the uncomfortably hot air around her.

Who knew dragons were so hot?

(He can picture Five pushing up his glasses, if he wore them, and with his nose in the air explaining how dragons breathe _fire_, and they’re _huge,_ of course they’re going to have high temperature body heat; _duh._ Ben shakes away the uncomfortably accurate vision of his brother.)

_Take it!_ says Sonia. _Weld says you can have the one not like the others. The shiny one._

Right. The egg made of gold. The golden egg. The egg Ben is squinting at, watching his own warped reflection. That egg.

Without further ado, he picks up the (surprisingly light) egg, cradles it against his chest, and turns to face the music.

He gives a slightly stilted grin, and the crowd goes wild.


End file.
